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Birthgrave #1
The Birthgrave
She woke from a sleep of countless years, reborn from the heart of a raging volcano. Her body was a masterpiece all men desired, her face a monstrosity that must go masked. Warrior, witch, goddess and slave, she was doomed to travel through a world of barbaric splendour, helped and betrayed by her lovers, searching for escape from the taint of her forgotten race, and the malice of the demon that haunted her.
408 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published June 1, 1975
135 people are currently reading
2,680 people want to read
About the author
Tanith Lee
588 books1,907 followersTanith Lee was a British writer of science fiction, horror, and fantasy. She was the author of 77 novels, 14 collections, and almost 300 short stories. She also wrote four radio plays broadcast by the BBC and two scripts for the UK, science fiction, cult television series "Blake's 7."
Before becoming a full time writer, Lee worked as a file clerk, an assistant librarian, a shop assistant, and a waitress.
Her first short story, "Eustace," was published in 1968, and her first novel (for children) The Dragon Hoard was published in 1971.
Her career took off in 1975 with the acceptance by Daw Books USA of her adult fantasy epic The Birthgrave for publication as a mass-market paperback, and Lee has since maintained a prolific output in popular genre writing.
Lee twice won the World Fantasy Award: once in 1983 for best short fiction for “The Gorgon” and again in 1984 for best short fiction for “Elle Est Trois (La Mort).” She has been a Guest of Honour at numerous science fiction and fantasy conventions including the Boskone XVIII in Boston, USA in 1981, the 1984 World Fantasy Convention in Ottawa, Canada, and Orbital 2008 the British National Science Fiction convention (Eastercon) held in London, England in March 2008. In 2009 she was awarded the prestigious title of Grand Master of Horror.
Lee was the daughter of two ballroom dancers, Bernard and Hylda Lee. Despite a persistent rumour, she was not the daughter of the actor Bernard Lee who played "M" in the James Bond series of films of the 1960s.
Tanith Lee married author and artist John Kaiine in 1992.
Before becoming a full time writer, Lee worked as a file clerk, an assistant librarian, a shop assistant, and a waitress.
Her first short story, "Eustace," was published in 1968, and her first novel (for children) The Dragon Hoard was published in 1971.
Her career took off in 1975 with the acceptance by Daw Books USA of her adult fantasy epic The Birthgrave for publication as a mass-market paperback, and Lee has since maintained a prolific output in popular genre writing.
Lee twice won the World Fantasy Award: once in 1983 for best short fiction for “The Gorgon” and again in 1984 for best short fiction for “Elle Est Trois (La Mort).” She has been a Guest of Honour at numerous science fiction and fantasy conventions including the Boskone XVIII in Boston, USA in 1981, the 1984 World Fantasy Convention in Ottawa, Canada, and Orbital 2008 the British National Science Fiction convention (Eastercon) held in London, England in March 2008. In 2009 she was awarded the prestigious title of Grand Master of Horror.
Lee was the daughter of two ballroom dancers, Bernard and Hylda Lee. Despite a persistent rumour, she was not the daughter of the actor Bernard Lee who played "M" in the James Bond series of films of the 1960s.
Tanith Lee married author and artist John Kaiine in 1992.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 175 reviews
February 25, 2012
Tanith Lee's The Birthgrave is one of the best pieces of feminist speculative fiction I have ever read.
The main character is a woman of the old race- humanlike creatures with apparent immortality and powers above and beyond that which we possess. She awakens in a volcano, and is told by the spirit in the fire that she is the last of her kind and will spread a curse of unhappiness across the land, unless she can unlock the secrets to the power and knowledge hidden within herself. Thus she leaves the mountain on a series of adventures, trying to discover the lost truth of her own past.
This book is about power: the power of belief, the power of the Other, and the power of womankind. As our main character, nameless, interacts with the world around her, she takes many roles: that of goddess, slave, warrior, healer. Lee does a fantastic job of painting more primitive human cultures, lost in their own beliefs and unwilling or unable to see the world around them for what it is because of their dogma and fear. Through these cultures drifts our heroine, a complex woman of quicksilver, trying to understand the legacy left her by her forebears.
The focus of her story for me is that while she has the physical and mental powers of her kind, the real victory comes from her strength of will. In a world dominated by men, she is both revered and feared, for while she hides what she can, the men around her- especially those with power- can sense that there is more to her than meets the eye. These men use her for their own gain. Some put her on a pedestal; others suppress her. But they are always watching her, because they know that her substance is something they cannot even begin to guess. In this, she represents the true inner strength of all womankind, for isn't the male of our species always trying to define and understand us? Our nameless heroine runs the gamut of all that men have done in the effort to realize a definition for the power and beauty of womanhood.
But it's the eventual outcome of her quest that is truly refreshing and surprising- through it, she finally comes to understand that there is no need for an outward locus of self. All the answers to those confusions and mysteries are there inside her. She is not cursed, but blessed.
Highly recommended.
The main character is a woman of the old race- humanlike creatures with apparent immortality and powers above and beyond that which we possess. She awakens in a volcano, and is told by the spirit in the fire that she is the last of her kind and will spread a curse of unhappiness across the land, unless she can unlock the secrets to the power and knowledge hidden within herself. Thus she leaves the mountain on a series of adventures, trying to discover the lost truth of her own past.
This book is about power: the power of belief, the power of the Other, and the power of womankind. As our main character, nameless, interacts with the world around her, she takes many roles: that of goddess, slave, warrior, healer. Lee does a fantastic job of painting more primitive human cultures, lost in their own beliefs and unwilling or unable to see the world around them for what it is because of their dogma and fear. Through these cultures drifts our heroine, a complex woman of quicksilver, trying to understand the legacy left her by her forebears.
The focus of her story for me is that while she has the physical and mental powers of her kind, the real victory comes from her strength of will. In a world dominated by men, she is both revered and feared, for while she hides what she can, the men around her- especially those with power- can sense that there is more to her than meets the eye. These men use her for their own gain. Some put her on a pedestal; others suppress her. But they are always watching her, because they know that her substance is something they cannot even begin to guess. In this, she represents the true inner strength of all womankind, for isn't the male of our species always trying to define and understand us? Our nameless heroine runs the gamut of all that men have done in the effort to realize a definition for the power and beauty of womanhood.
But it's the eventual outcome of her quest that is truly refreshing and surprising- through it, she finally comes to understand that there is no need for an outward locus of self. All the answers to those confusions and mysteries are there inside her. She is not cursed, but blessed.
Highly recommended.
July 17, 2018
Between 4 and 5 stars
A hard book to read and an even harder book to like. And I enjoyed it very much, mostly because I have strange taste in genre fiction and strange books always call out to me, but I think, if the mood is right and you're looking for something with depth, with flesh, to sink your teeth into, you might want to give this challenging book a try.
The writing is subversive and sublime and unexpectedly hard-hitting, and not what I expected from the Conan the Barbarian throwback cover and description. I simply expected Conan the Barbarian but told from a female perspective, which sort of what this book is. It takes Conan as the foundation for which the story builds on to create a whole new world that's on the edge of destruction and reincarnation.
And I find every part of it fascinating because it really delves into and takes advantage of all the things that genre adventures often ignore, like the inner life of a confusing character who is, by all accounts, an alien. She is definitely not of the world in which she walks. And in most stories written in this genre, she would've been ignored or killed early on. Here, though, she gets to tell her tale.
* * * * *
This book is quite an experience. It feels like a 5-star read at the moment, but I'll have to think on it some more.
Some thoughts on the first two books of this trilogy https://covers2covers.wordpress.com/2...
A hard book to read and an even harder book to like. And I enjoyed it very much, mostly because I have strange taste in genre fiction and strange books always call out to me, but I think, if the mood is right and you're looking for something with depth, with flesh, to sink your teeth into, you might want to give this challenging book a try.
The writing is subversive and sublime and unexpectedly hard-hitting, and not what I expected from the Conan the Barbarian throwback cover and description. I simply expected Conan the Barbarian but told from a female perspective, which sort of what this book is. It takes Conan as the foundation for which the story builds on to create a whole new world that's on the edge of destruction and reincarnation.
And I find every part of it fascinating because it really delves into and takes advantage of all the things that genre adventures often ignore, like the inner life of a confusing character who is, by all accounts, an alien. She is definitely not of the world in which she walks. And in most stories written in this genre, she would've been ignored or killed early on. Here, though, she gets to tell her tale.
* * * * *
This book is quite an experience. It feels like a 5-star read at the moment, but I'll have to think on it some more.
Some thoughts on the first two books of this trilogy https://covers2covers.wordpress.com/2...
February 27, 2023
3.5/5 stars
A young woman with no memory of her name awakens beneath a volcano. Guided by a disembodied demonic he-she voice (the protagonist's own words, not mine) called Karrakaz she makes her way out of the volcano before it erupts. Before she leaves the volcano, however, Karrakaz shows her the ugliness on her face and makes her mask herself. Karrakaz instructs her to find a jade stone which links her back to her now extinct culture. But if she should give up then Karrakaz will summon the Knife of Easy Dying and make her end her own life. Once out of the volcano and armed with a mystical Power (it's literally capitalized throughout the book) but followed by a curse for constant death and destruction around her, the nameless main character wanders into a world now populated by the peoples--or at least their descendants--who were once enslaved by her own ancient race. Some revere her as an all-powerful goddess who can heal and help them, some want her divine power for themselves, and others fear her entirely. This masked young woman will travel a great and brutal world to find her past and discover her identity, and along the way she will be seen as a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, and demon; sometimes all in one. And perhaps, that is Tanith Lee's point.
I have read other books already by Lee, Sabella and Don’t Bite the Sun, but this is her debut from way back in 1975. At its core, it is a sword and sorcery fantasy about a woman's journey to find out who and what she is. I suppose one could make comparisons and contrasts with Joseph Campbell's concept of the hero's journey, but it would be difficult to call our nameless heroine, well, a heroine at all. The main character gradually evolves into a multifaceted character. At first she appears weak and unknowing, though far from idiotic, about the world. Many people try to take advantage of her, mostly men such as the warlord Darak, one of the first important people she meets. However, she is able to defend herself and stand her ground; some men react to this with wonder and applause, others, like Darak, feel even more aggravated. If you cannot tell yet, The Birthgrave is story with a lot of different things going on with gender, in both the subtext and the forefront.
The world the main character finds herself in predominantly patriarchal, though there are a few cultures she encounters were women have some significant agency. Darak, the warlord and first important male character the main character encounters, and his men have different relationships with the main character. Seeing that she has healing powers, Darak wants the main character by his side to heal him and his men and to use her Power on the battlefield so that they can continually win all their fights to the trading cities. He also takes her as his bedmate, something which the main character doesn't want to do at first but then accepts it. This was one part of the story that confused me. At first, the main character genuinely hates Darak, and he her, but then she grows emotionally attached to him despite him being sexually unfaithful to her and cold to her. I didn't understand why this developed. Was it supposed to be some sort of Stockholm syndrome? If Lee was trying to imply something here, then I regrettably did not catch it. Anyway, Darak also tries to push the main character into his demands, sometimes hitting her when she isn't quick to acquiesce or refuses. The main character always strikes back to put him in his place. On the other hand, Darak's men don't treat the main character like a delicate little flower nor as a punching bag. Darak makes her wear the warrior clothes of a man and when his men first encounter her they think she's a boy. Nonetheless, Darak's men train her in archery, horse riding, and some sword fighting and praise her accomplishments, angering Darak further.
As you can see, gender is a strange thing in this book. Many men are impressed by and praise the main character's actions and achievements, but there's always one or two who get angered by her despite the praise. Additionally, the main character eventually recovers a memory of her long lost culture. She learns that division between the sexes wasn't apparent among her people, but the men of her culture mistreated and abused the women of the other races subservient to them. Perhaps Lee is reminding us that just because an advanced society shows no sexism towards its women and treats them equally as men, does not mean that that society will treat other women well. Whereas Ursula K. Le Guin, Marion Zimmer Bradley, and other women writers of the time on sexist speculative worlds were very much tellers, Lee is very much a shower. There's no long diatribes of men's treatment of women in this book or why it happens. She merely shows you the world and how at least one woman fits herself into it and bites back. All this is done with beautiful prose, though not quite as beautiful as some as her later works. The writing is tight and coveys the emotions and progression Lee wants to portray. But some of the adjectives used and descriptions are a bit weak and can be confusing. For example, during a scene where the main character and Darak are training for a race, Lee introduces the horses by their colors and refers to them on out by the colors. The main character and Darak's horses are black and therefore there are sentences like "the blacks jumped" or "the black were quick" and felt quite odd.
This relationship between men and women is pretty much the bulk of the plot progression throughout The Birthgrave. The main character is taken in by a different culture or group of people who either fear or idolize her, one of its male leaders has some sort of relationship with her and tries to make her use her status and power, and then whichever city or settlement the main character and these people are at is eventually attacked because the main character believes it's apart of the curse Karrakaz put on her. Its rather cyclical, a concept and writing style that can be found in other earlier works of Lee's like Volkhavaar and the Tales from the Flat Earth series. Oddly enough, I did not find it repetitive nor as a result of a lack of imagination on Lee's part. It think there was a point to this. I'm going to deviate here a bit to provide context, so just hang on. What you have to remember is that the main character is considered a goddess, and when you read this book you will realize that there are no male gods at all mentioned or worshipped. None whatsoever. Just goddesses, all whom might be different diffusions or faces of the same goddess who may be our main character. It is most likely, though I don't have definite proof, it is just my theory, that Lee was inspired by a popular theory going around at the time about ancient goddess worship. The theory was that in the ancient world a primary goddess of life and fertility was revered in all cultures alongside a male companion who was usually her son or consort (sometimes both). Now, the reason I point this out is because, remember, this book was published in 1975, in the middle of the second-wave feminist movement. There was a sub-movement of the second-wave feminists called the Goddess movement which, in response to patriarchal religion, sought to emphasis the history of the worship of goddesses. These goddesses were viewed as being kinder and more benevolent than any male god, regardless of whichever religion. It partially engendered the idea that women are, and should be, the more benevolent opposites of cruel, patriarchal men.
"Nick, where are you going with this? Get back to the review," you say. "Don't worry," I say. "I'll loop back soon."
Not every feminist, whether they were religious or not, agreed with this mode of thinking. Simply because it was merely reenacting what we now call gender essentialism, but from another point-of-view. If you think about it, the idea that all women must be kind paragons of virtue to contrast from the brutal, thuggish conquering men is still ultimately sexist forces both men and women into restrictive roles; and obscures other genders and the fluidity of gender itself. Also, the benevolent goddess theory isn't historically accurate. Many goddesses from Kali to Anath, to Sekhmet and Itzpapalotl could be quite vicious and brutal goddesses, even if their violence was justified. It is safe to say that Lee herself probably didn't agree with the theory in question either. There are clearly influences of these ancient goddess patterns on the book, but there's some small Christian-influenced (or at least, Christian-sounding) ones too.
The Birthgrave's point and the reason for this cyclical plot progression, especially at the time in a genre that was still mostly male-dominated, is that goddesses, and all women, cannot be chained to one identity or aspect, and cannot be controlled. The main character is, as I said in the beginning, a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, and demon. She is sometimes only some of them for a brief period of time, but what's certain is that she is always herself. The main character definitely has some tender moments, but she is not always kind. In one rather disturbing rape scene, after she pulls the rapist off the victim, and he dies to his own stupidity, she cares very little for the girl who is now dead. She cares enough to have her buried, but not enough to feel anything else for her. Also, at one point she uses her Power to kill a group of people she had lived among so that another group won't take them as slaves. It's quite cold and cruel. She shows some remorse for the latter atrocity, but says nothing can be done to repent. So none of the men who try to possess can have her. But at least three men, Darak, Asren, and Vazkor, the first and last ones look similar to each other, haunt her.
The worldbuilding is interestingly enough most told through the main character's travels throughout the land. Other people or her past visions reveal what the world is and like. It seems that the influence of her lost culture can still be seen and felt on the world. Many of the other cultures still remember them. The magic system, if you can even call it that, for the Power isn't really described in detail for the most part. There isn't much revelation about it till the end. But from the beginning, the Power is just considered the main character's power because of her being a goddess and I was content with that. No one else really possesses the Power except for Vazkor, one of the other important men in her life who eventually becomes her husband. We don't really know why Vazkor has the power; the main character does not believe that he is from her race. If there is a mystery without an answer in this book, it's Vazkor's Power.
One thing I have to mention is that most of the other races are described as dark-skinned. Sometimes Lee says black, but when she uses specific descriptions she described olive skin. Perhaps because she's British olive skin is considered black, I don't know. Remember that all of these people were once enslaved by the main character's ancient lost race whom for the most part are described as white-haired and fair complected. One member of her race, shown near the end of the book, was one of the dark-skinned people but then apparently, or it is maybe implied, assimilated himself as one of the Lost People but then meets an unfortunate end when a plague wipes out her people. The enslaved races, or at least the dark-skinned ones, did not contract the plague and fled their enslavement as the Lost People fell. I'm not sure how to feel about this handling of race. For one, the main character's people eventually fell because of their hubris, a concept I'll come back to later, and so it can be seen as a sort of punishment for enslaving the other races. There's a variety of cultures among the dark-skinned peoples, though some are portrayed as more superstitious as others. The main character dislikes some of these people, especially their women, even when they are outright kind and protective of her, though we already know that she isn't a good person. Still, it feels weird at times. They aren't villainized, but they aren't "sophisticated" in the protagonist's eyes.
There's quite a few things in this book that don't make sense or don't have an answer. It is a debut novel, so mistakes are bound to happen. Another review I saw elsewhere (I can't find it now) said they were constantly wondering "Why?" Why is the main character doing all these things? I wondered this often at times as well. And as it was pointed out within the text itself, it came to me.
Hubris.
It's the main character's hubris that makes her constantly wind up in her recurrence of self-destruction, harming others, and being harmed and ensnared by others. It is the hubris of the men, whether the brutish Darak, the kind Asren, or the calculating Vazkor who think they can give the main character her destiny, whether or not that desire to give her one comes from a good place. It is Karrakaz's hubris, which you will see is deeply tied to the main character's own hubris, that makes it think that it can control the main character's destiny. It was the main character's people's hubris that made them believe they could live forever and not be punished or get the plague. This world is ruled by hubris; perhaps our own is too. Even a goddess' hubris can damn us all.
Now, I can't write this review without talking about the ending. I won't spoil it, but the ending was absolutely wild when the book was published. It did make be do a double take. Is it a deus ex machina? Erm....a little bit. Did I still enjoy it? Oh, yes! Despite how weird it is, and how easy it's used to show the revelations, it still supported Lee's themes and points to me. The main character meets another man, who also resembles Darak and Vazkor, who reveals her past and the origins of everything wrong with her world. It is here with this man, Rarm, that the main character finally finds a man who wants nothing from her except the truth. He does not desire to possess her, just reveal to her who she is. He has affection for her, but does not love her. He does not give her a name like all the other men did, he opens the path for her so she can remember her true name. Rarm's people are all men, but the main character was somehow able to use her Power to overpower, shall we say, his Power. He mentions that he was bewildered at first, though not because of her gender, but did not seek to destroy her or make her into his own. He only wanted her to see find herself.
At the end of it all, The Birthgrave is journey to find one's self. And that one self, against everything else, is more than enough. Whether you are a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, or demon, or all of them at once, or only a few of them: knowing your true self is enough.
To wake, and not to know where or who you are, not even to know what you are--whether a thing with legs and arms, or a beast, or a brain in the hull of a great fish--that is a strange awakening.
A young woman with no memory of her name awakens beneath a volcano. Guided by a disembodied demonic he-she voice (the protagonist's own words, not mine) called Karrakaz she makes her way out of the volcano before it erupts. Before she leaves the volcano, however, Karrakaz shows her the ugliness on her face and makes her mask herself. Karrakaz instructs her to find a jade stone which links her back to her now extinct culture. But if she should give up then Karrakaz will summon the Knife of Easy Dying and make her end her own life. Once out of the volcano and armed with a mystical Power (it's literally capitalized throughout the book) but followed by a curse for constant death and destruction around her, the nameless main character wanders into a world now populated by the peoples--or at least their descendants--who were once enslaved by her own ancient race. Some revere her as an all-powerful goddess who can heal and help them, some want her divine power for themselves, and others fear her entirely. This masked young woman will travel a great and brutal world to find her past and discover her identity, and along the way she will be seen as a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, and demon; sometimes all in one. And perhaps, that is Tanith Lee's point.
I have read other books already by Lee, Sabella and Don’t Bite the Sun, but this is her debut from way back in 1975. At its core, it is a sword and sorcery fantasy about a woman's journey to find out who and what she is. I suppose one could make comparisons and contrasts with Joseph Campbell's concept of the hero's journey, but it would be difficult to call our nameless heroine, well, a heroine at all. The main character gradually evolves into a multifaceted character. At first she appears weak and unknowing, though far from idiotic, about the world. Many people try to take advantage of her, mostly men such as the warlord Darak, one of the first important people she meets. However, she is able to defend herself and stand her ground; some men react to this with wonder and applause, others, like Darak, feel even more aggravated. If you cannot tell yet, The Birthgrave is story with a lot of different things going on with gender, in both the subtext and the forefront.
The world the main character finds herself in predominantly patriarchal, though there are a few cultures she encounters were women have some significant agency. Darak, the warlord and first important male character the main character encounters, and his men have different relationships with the main character. Seeing that she has healing powers, Darak wants the main character by his side to heal him and his men and to use her Power on the battlefield so that they can continually win all their fights to the trading cities. He also takes her as his bedmate, something which the main character doesn't want to do at first but then accepts it. This was one part of the story that confused me. At first, the main character genuinely hates Darak, and he her, but then she grows emotionally attached to him despite him being sexually unfaithful to her and cold to her. I didn't understand why this developed. Was it supposed to be some sort of Stockholm syndrome? If Lee was trying to imply something here, then I regrettably did not catch it. Anyway, Darak also tries to push the main character into his demands, sometimes hitting her when she isn't quick to acquiesce or refuses. The main character always strikes back to put him in his place. On the other hand, Darak's men don't treat the main character like a delicate little flower nor as a punching bag. Darak makes her wear the warrior clothes of a man and when his men first encounter her they think she's a boy. Nonetheless, Darak's men train her in archery, horse riding, and some sword fighting and praise her accomplishments, angering Darak further.
As you can see, gender is a strange thing in this book. Many men are impressed by and praise the main character's actions and achievements, but there's always one or two who get angered by her despite the praise. Additionally, the main character eventually recovers a memory of her long lost culture. She learns that division between the sexes wasn't apparent among her people, but the men of her culture mistreated and abused the women of the other races subservient to them. Perhaps Lee is reminding us that just because an advanced society shows no sexism towards its women and treats them equally as men, does not mean that that society will treat other women well. Whereas Ursula K. Le Guin, Marion Zimmer Bradley, and other women writers of the time on sexist speculative worlds were very much tellers, Lee is very much a shower. There's no long diatribes of men's treatment of women in this book or why it happens. She merely shows you the world and how at least one woman fits herself into it and bites back. All this is done with beautiful prose, though not quite as beautiful as some as her later works. The writing is tight and coveys the emotions and progression Lee wants to portray. But some of the adjectives used and descriptions are a bit weak and can be confusing. For example, during a scene where the main character and Darak are training for a race, Lee introduces the horses by their colors and refers to them on out by the colors. The main character and Darak's horses are black and therefore there are sentences like "the blacks jumped" or "the black were quick" and felt quite odd.
This relationship between men and women is pretty much the bulk of the plot progression throughout The Birthgrave. The main character is taken in by a different culture or group of people who either fear or idolize her, one of its male leaders has some sort of relationship with her and tries to make her use her status and power, and then whichever city or settlement the main character and these people are at is eventually attacked because the main character believes it's apart of the curse Karrakaz put on her. Its rather cyclical, a concept and writing style that can be found in other earlier works of Lee's like Volkhavaar and the Tales from the Flat Earth series. Oddly enough, I did not find it repetitive nor as a result of a lack of imagination on Lee's part. It think there was a point to this. I'm going to deviate here a bit to provide context, so just hang on. What you have to remember is that the main character is considered a goddess, and when you read this book you will realize that there are no male gods at all mentioned or worshipped. None whatsoever. Just goddesses, all whom might be different diffusions or faces of the same goddess who may be our main character. It is most likely, though I don't have definite proof, it is just my theory, that Lee was inspired by a popular theory going around at the time about ancient goddess worship. The theory was that in the ancient world a primary goddess of life and fertility was revered in all cultures alongside a male companion who was usually her son or consort (sometimes both). Now, the reason I point this out is because, remember, this book was published in 1975, in the middle of the second-wave feminist movement. There was a sub-movement of the second-wave feminists called the Goddess movement which, in response to patriarchal religion, sought to emphasis the history of the worship of goddesses. These goddesses were viewed as being kinder and more benevolent than any male god, regardless of whichever religion. It partially engendered the idea that women are, and should be, the more benevolent opposites of cruel, patriarchal men.
"Nick, where are you going with this? Get back to the review," you say. "Don't worry," I say. "I'll loop back soon."
Not every feminist, whether they were religious or not, agreed with this mode of thinking. Simply because it was merely reenacting what we now call gender essentialism, but from another point-of-view. If you think about it, the idea that all women must be kind paragons of virtue to contrast from the brutal, thuggish conquering men is still ultimately sexist forces both men and women into restrictive roles; and obscures other genders and the fluidity of gender itself. Also, the benevolent goddess theory isn't historically accurate. Many goddesses from Kali to Anath, to Sekhmet and Itzpapalotl could be quite vicious and brutal goddesses, even if their violence was justified. It is safe to say that Lee herself probably didn't agree with the theory in question either. There are clearly influences of these ancient goddess patterns on the book, but there's some small Christian-influenced (or at least, Christian-sounding) ones too.
The Birthgrave's point and the reason for this cyclical plot progression, especially at the time in a genre that was still mostly male-dominated, is that goddesses, and all women, cannot be chained to one identity or aspect, and cannot be controlled. The main character is, as I said in the beginning, a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, and demon. She is sometimes only some of them for a brief period of time, but what's certain is that she is always herself. The main character definitely has some tender moments, but she is not always kind. In one rather disturbing rape scene, after she pulls the rapist off the victim, and he dies to his own stupidity, she cares very little for the girl who is now dead. She cares enough to have her buried, but not enough to feel anything else for her. Also, at one point she uses her Power to kill a group of people she had lived among so that another group won't take them as slaves. It's quite cold and cruel. She shows some remorse for the latter atrocity, but says nothing can be done to repent. So none of the men who try to possess can have her. But at least three men, Darak, Asren, and Vazkor, the first and last ones look similar to each other, haunt her.
The worldbuilding is interestingly enough most told through the main character's travels throughout the land. Other people or her past visions reveal what the world is and like. It seems that the influence of her lost culture can still be seen and felt on the world. Many of the other cultures still remember them. The magic system, if you can even call it that, for the Power isn't really described in detail for the most part. There isn't much revelation about it till the end. But from the beginning, the Power is just considered the main character's power because of her being a goddess and I was content with that. No one else really possesses the Power except for Vazkor, one of the other important men in her life who eventually becomes her husband. We don't really know why Vazkor has the power; the main character does not believe that he is from her race. If there is a mystery without an answer in this book, it's Vazkor's Power.
One thing I have to mention is that most of the other races are described as dark-skinned. Sometimes Lee says black, but when she uses specific descriptions she described olive skin. Perhaps because she's British olive skin is considered black, I don't know. Remember that all of these people were once enslaved by the main character's ancient lost race whom for the most part are described as white-haired and fair complected. One member of her race, shown near the end of the book, was one of the dark-skinned people but then apparently, or it is maybe implied, assimilated himself as one of the Lost People but then meets an unfortunate end when a plague wipes out her people. The enslaved races, or at least the dark-skinned ones, did not contract the plague and fled their enslavement as the Lost People fell. I'm not sure how to feel about this handling of race. For one, the main character's people eventually fell because of their hubris, a concept I'll come back to later, and so it can be seen as a sort of punishment for enslaving the other races. There's a variety of cultures among the dark-skinned peoples, though some are portrayed as more superstitious as others. The main character dislikes some of these people, especially their women, even when they are outright kind and protective of her, though we already know that she isn't a good person. Still, it feels weird at times. They aren't villainized, but they aren't "sophisticated" in the protagonist's eyes.
There's quite a few things in this book that don't make sense or don't have an answer. It is a debut novel, so mistakes are bound to happen. Another review I saw elsewhere (I can't find it now) said they were constantly wondering "Why?" Why is the main character doing all these things? I wondered this often at times as well. And as it was pointed out within the text itself, it came to me.
Hubris.
It's the main character's hubris that makes her constantly wind up in her recurrence of self-destruction, harming others, and being harmed and ensnared by others. It is the hubris of the men, whether the brutish Darak, the kind Asren, or the calculating Vazkor who think they can give the main character her destiny, whether or not that desire to give her one comes from a good place. It is Karrakaz's hubris, which you will see is deeply tied to the main character's own hubris, that makes it think that it can control the main character's destiny. It was the main character's people's hubris that made them believe they could live forever and not be punished or get the plague. This world is ruled by hubris; perhaps our own is too. Even a goddess' hubris can damn us all.
Now, I can't write this review without talking about the ending. I won't spoil it, but the ending was absolutely wild when the book was published. It did make be do a double take. Is it a deus ex machina? Erm....a little bit. Did I still enjoy it? Oh, yes! Despite how weird it is, and how easy it's used to show the revelations, it still supported Lee's themes and points to me. The main character meets another man, who also resembles Darak and Vazkor, who reveals her past and the origins of everything wrong with her world. It is here with this man, Rarm, that the main character finally finds a man who wants nothing from her except the truth. He does not desire to possess her, just reveal to her who she is. He has affection for her, but does not love her. He does not give her a name like all the other men did, he opens the path for her so she can remember her true name. Rarm's people are all men, but the main character was somehow able to use her Power to overpower, shall we say, his Power. He mentions that he was bewildered at first, though not because of her gender, but did not seek to destroy her or make her into his own. He only wanted her to see find herself.
At the end of it all, The Birthgrave is journey to find one's self. And that one self, against everything else, is more than enough. Whether you are a goddess, healer, witch, queen, whore, wife, slave, mother, or demon, or all of them at once, or only a few of them: knowing your true self is enough.
To wake, and not to know where or who you are, not even to know what you are--whether a thing with legs and arms, or a beast, or a brain in the hull of a great fish--that is a strange awakening.
August 26, 2015
The Birthgrave – An Adult ‘Coming of Age’ Novel – Dark, Haunting Adventure
Haunting Release: The Birthgrave is a coming of age novel of (and by) a female goddess. Tanith Lee’s debut novel is adult oriented, dark fantasy. This one is epic, dosed with poetic horror and battle, and features lots of risky writing (entertaining). The 2015 reprint comes with a haunting introduction written in January, just months before her May death coinciding with the paperback release in the US.
The female narrator quests to free her body/soul from a curse; although suffering from amnesia as she awakens from an active volcano, she learns that she is a goddess among humans… and she knows her ancestors are all mysteriously gone. She is alone, powerful, and yet ignorant and weak. There is plenty of rough sexual encounters, not gratuitous but written more dispassionately than romantically – and seems to toy with the stereotypes of the genre. Marion Zimmer Bradley’s introduction is short yet insightful and touches on this interplay:
Expect Ambitious, Risky Writing that Works Most of the Time: This is a first-person-perspective for 450pages! The content is full of adult psychology and complex mystery, written by a 22yr old! And it is her debut novel! How is that for pioneering? Most of the time, the risk taking pays off. The perspective works as it should, and it was easy to forget (even 400 pages in) that I still did not know “her” proper name---but by then I knew “her” so well a name was not needed. She unfolds a mystery with perfect pacing with periodic ghostly encounters and déjà vu moments. There is plenty of commentary about gender roles across barbaric and civilized cultures, though it steered away from being political commentary thankfully. Tanith Lee’s gift for poetic language is stunning. The book is saturated with efficient characterizations, like the two below:
Avoiding spoilers, I must still note that there is a sudden encounter very late in the novel that seems to shift the genre out of its dark-fantasy-epic mold. Given the 1975 wording and delivery, it would be easy to over emphasize this section. Diehard genre readers feeling sucker-punched may have to sigh or trust my review that ultimately the milieu is consistent. In short order, the story rights its trajectory in a consistent manner.
I really enjoyed reading this experiential novel and am saddened to learn of Tanith Lee’s death. Thankfully, she was a prolific writer and wrote a large library of weird, dark fantasy… which I look forward to delving into. The Birthgrave begins a trilogy; the sequel is Vazkor, Son of Vazkor, and the finale is Quest for the White Witch. The releases come with new covers from artist Bastien Lecouffe Deharme. http://www.roman-noir.com/
Shadowfire book #2 coming
Haunting Release: The Birthgrave is a coming of age novel of (and by) a female goddess. Tanith Lee’s debut novel is adult oriented, dark fantasy. This one is epic, dosed with poetic horror and battle, and features lots of risky writing (entertaining). The 2015 reprint comes with a haunting introduction written in January, just months before her May death coinciding with the paperback release in the US.
The female narrator quests to free her body/soul from a curse; although suffering from amnesia as she awakens from an active volcano, she learns that she is a goddess among humans… and she knows her ancestors are all mysteriously gone. She is alone, powerful, and yet ignorant and weak. There is plenty of rough sexual encounters, not gratuitous but written more dispassionately than romantically – and seems to toy with the stereotypes of the genre. Marion Zimmer Bradley’s introduction is short yet insightful and touches on this interplay:
Most women in science fiction write from a man’s viewpoint. In most human societies, adventures have been structured for men. Women who wish to write of adventure have had to accept, willy-nilly, this limitation. There seems an unspoken assumption in science fiction that science fiction is usually read by men, or, if it is read by women, it is read by those women who are bored with feminine concerns and wish to escape into the world of fantasy where they can change their internal viewpoint and gender and share the adventurous world of men…
…Here is a woman writer whose protagonist is a woman—yet from the very first she takes her destiny in her own hands, neither slave nor chattel. Her adventures are her own. She is not dragged into them by the men in her life, nor served up to the victor as a sexual reward after the battle. For the first time since C. L. Moore’s warrior-woman, Jirel of Joiry, we see the woman-adventurer in her own right. But this book is not an enormous allegory of women’s liberation, nor an elaborate piece of special pleading. It’s just a big delightful feast of excitement and adventure—Introduction by Marion Zimmer Bradley
Expect Ambitious, Risky Writing that Works Most of the Time: This is a first-person-perspective for 450pages! The content is full of adult psychology and complex mystery, written by a 22yr old! And it is her debut novel! How is that for pioneering? Most of the time, the risk taking pays off. The perspective works as it should, and it was easy to forget (even 400 pages in) that I still did not know “her” proper name---but by then I knew “her” so well a name was not needed. She unfolds a mystery with perfect pacing with periodic ghostly encounters and déjà vu moments. There is plenty of commentary about gender roles across barbaric and civilized cultures, though it steered away from being political commentary thankfully. Tanith Lee’s gift for poetic language is stunning. The book is saturated with efficient characterizations, like the two below:
If I broke into a run to escape them, would they too run to keep up? My eyes grew strange, and everywhere I looked, I seemed to see the glitter of the Knife of Easy Dying. Die, and let them follow me to death if they would. But I was still too new to life to let it go.
…Darak had called them to some council then, on the low hill beyond the houses. Yes, that would be it. A little king on a little throne, lording it because his subjects were smaller than even his smallness.
Avoiding spoilers, I must still note that there is a sudden encounter very late in the novel that seems to shift the genre out of its dark-fantasy-epic mold. Given the 1975 wording and delivery, it would be easy to over emphasize this section. Diehard genre readers feeling sucker-punched may have to sigh or trust my review that ultimately the milieu is consistent. In short order, the story rights its trajectory in a consistent manner.
I really enjoyed reading this experiential novel and am saddened to learn of Tanith Lee’s death. Thankfully, she was a prolific writer and wrote a large library of weird, dark fantasy… which I look forward to delving into. The Birthgrave begins a trilogy; the sequel is Vazkor, Son of Vazkor, and the finale is Quest for the White Witch. The releases come with new covers from artist Bastien Lecouffe Deharme. http://www.roman-noir.com/
Shadowfire book #2 coming
February 28, 2017
Buddy read with Shelly and Sam on August 1st!
Well, I'm bowing out early on this buddy read. I read about 2/3 of the book before I decided to call it quits. It was just so dense and seemingly random that I had no idea where it was going, and I couldn't bring myself to care. There's no doubt it was inventive and well-written, as many of Lee's books are, but I wasn't excited to continue. The book was too long and plotless.
One thing that interested me in particular was the heroine's apparently hideous face, which she hides behind a mask.
I did skip ahead to the end, and I think it was a good ending. But it was so much work to get there.
Well, I'm bowing out early on this buddy read. I read about 2/3 of the book before I decided to call it quits. It was just so dense and seemingly random that I had no idea where it was going, and I couldn't bring myself to care. There's no doubt it was inventive and well-written, as many of Lee's books are, but I wasn't excited to continue. The book was too long and plotless.
One thing that interested me in particular was the heroine's apparently hideous face, which she hides behind a mask.
I did skip ahead to the end, and I think it was a good ending. But it was so much work to get there.
January 12, 2015
I found this book just a touch exasperating in the beginning because the main character makes some very odd and not entirely wise choices and often seems to just let herself be helplessly swept along by events she could potentially have some control over. However, in good time the reader gains a great deal of insight as to her inner workings shedding a lot of light which makes previously senseless choices very sensible and understandable indeed. What I liked most about this book, other than the beautiful and raw mythological feel, was her very unique method of mixing just a touch of science fiction in with the magic. It's done shockingly at first but this is because the book is in the first person and shocks the main character. Lee manages the very rare feat of mixing science fiction with fantasy seamlessly, still allowing the fantasy to remain unrefuted. The science did not serve the purpose of disproving magic, but rather more to do with expanding the character herself just a little more. This is the first fantasy I've read in quite a while that really swept me off my feet.
June 27, 2020
DAW Collectors #154
Cover Artist: George Barr
Name: Kaiine, Tanith Lee, Birthplace: London, England, UK, (19 September 1947 -- 24 May 2015)
Alternate Names: Judas Garbah, Esther Garber.
Tanith Lee's character's ted to be complex and emotional.
This is Tanith Lee's even her first novel. The story begins in an active volcano. She appears to be a young woman with a weird, deformed face, but it quickly becomes apparent that while the protagonist is inexperienced and female, she may not be young and probably isn’t a human woman at all. As she wanders through the volcanic cavern. there a bizarre, mostly-disembodied creature called Karrakaz who offers a choice between two confusing options: the protagonist may take up a dagger on Karrakaz’s altar and kill herself, which would, in the opinion of Karrakaz, be a mercy-death, sparing both the protagonist and the world great anguish, or she can go forth in search of a vaguely described solace or redemption referred to only as “the Jade.”.
Lee may be among one of the most naturally gifted authors.
Cover Artist: George Barr
Name: Kaiine, Tanith Lee, Birthplace: London, England, UK, (19 September 1947 -- 24 May 2015)
Alternate Names: Judas Garbah, Esther Garber.
Tanith Lee's character's ted to be complex and emotional.
This is Tanith Lee's even her first novel. The story begins in an active volcano. She appears to be a young woman with a weird, deformed face, but it quickly becomes apparent that while the protagonist is inexperienced and female, she may not be young and probably isn’t a human woman at all. As she wanders through the volcanic cavern. there a bizarre, mostly-disembodied creature called Karrakaz who offers a choice between two confusing options: the protagonist may take up a dagger on Karrakaz’s altar and kill herself, which would, in the opinion of Karrakaz, be a mercy-death, sparing both the protagonist and the world great anguish, or she can go forth in search of a vaguely described solace or redemption referred to only as “the Jade.”.
Lee may be among one of the most naturally gifted authors.
June 14, 2015
Not a perfect book, but a mighty impressive first novel (or first adult novel; I think Tanith Lee had published some YA books prior to this). Our narrator (who remains nameless until the very end of the book, and whose name would be quite the spoiler) wakes, amnesiac, in a chamber in a soon-to-erupt volcano; she speaks with (and is cursed by) a Dark Power and flees just before the eruption (possibly caused by her flight?). She goes masked, having been cursed with great ugliness, but is also herself the wielder of extraordinary powers, which she does not fully understand.
As to the actual plot, honestly, there isn't much of one -- the story falls somewhere between "picaresque" and "Perils of Pauline" (and "Smart Women, Foolish Choices") as she lurches from crisis to crisis and falls for a succession of not-great guys. (And, fair warning, there's some of that creepy "He mastered me and I fell for him" stuff going on, for varying values of "mastered".)
But it's still a journey well worth taking as she makes her way across a vaguely Bronze/Iron Age-feeling world, making her way from bandit hill tribes to ancient, decadent cities, ever driven by her curse.
The story does take a bit of a left turn right at the end (when she ), but I'm willing to forgive that in light of everything that comes before it, and for the strength of Lee's lush, sensual prose. And for including one of the greatest chariot races I've ever read.
As to the actual plot, honestly, there isn't much of one -- the story falls somewhere between "picaresque" and "Perils of Pauline" (and "Smart Women, Foolish Choices") as she lurches from crisis to crisis and falls for a succession of not-great guys. (And, fair warning, there's some of that creepy "He mastered me and I fell for him" stuff going on, for varying values of "mastered".)
But it's still a journey well worth taking as she makes her way across a vaguely Bronze/Iron Age-feeling world, making her way from bandit hill tribes to ancient, decadent cities, ever driven by her curse.
The story does take a bit of a left turn right at the end (when she ), but I'm willing to forgive that in light of everything that comes before it, and for the strength of Lee's lush, sensual prose. And for including one of the greatest chariot races I've ever read.
April 19, 2012
Tanith lee is a remarkable writer; her prose often sings with the beauty of a Clark Ashton Smith, and her powers of observation are formidable. I also found the ideas here more engrossing than what I've seen of some of her later work, some of which just seems like "normal" contemporary vampire fiction, albeit written better than 99% of her peers.
Unfortunately what started off as one of the best and most engrossing fantasy novels I've ever read goes completely pear-shaped at the end. The ending is so infuriating precisely because the book as a whole was written so well and contains so many glorious moments. I don't much mind that Lee pulled a spaceship out of her hat to get her protagonist out of a jam, even if it smacks terribly of deus ex machina. The problem is that the explanation of the protagonist's origins, her race and how she got to this point are all delivered in a big information dump in the last few pages, and it doesn't even make sense. How long was she actually trapped in that volcano? I didn't much understand why she went all "ga-ga" for the captain either. it just felt like the end of the novel was written in a big tired rush and it disappointed me that what started off so well just fizzled out.
Despite this, the novel contains much to recommend it, and I even read the other two books in the trilogy, which are on the whole weaker even though they too contain many passages of marvelous writing and imagery. That, basically, is what leaves me with a favourable impression; Lee's imagination delivers many things that I love about this kind of literature, and many images, landscapes and concepts that will stick with you long after the elements of plot have long faded from the memory.
Oh, and the chariot race and the celebration-cum-ambush that followed was definitely one of my favourite moments in the novel.
Unfortunately what started off as one of the best and most engrossing fantasy novels I've ever read goes completely pear-shaped at the end. The ending is so infuriating precisely because the book as a whole was written so well and contains so many glorious moments. I don't much mind that Lee pulled a spaceship out of her hat to get her protagonist out of a jam, even if it smacks terribly of deus ex machina. The problem is that the explanation of the protagonist's origins, her race and how she got to this point are all delivered in a big information dump in the last few pages, and it doesn't even make sense. How long was she actually trapped in that volcano? I didn't much understand why she went all "ga-ga" for the captain either. it just felt like the end of the novel was written in a big tired rush and it disappointed me that what started off so well just fizzled out.
Despite this, the novel contains much to recommend it, and I even read the other two books in the trilogy, which are on the whole weaker even though they too contain many passages of marvelous writing and imagery. That, basically, is what leaves me with a favourable impression; Lee's imagination delivers many things that I love about this kind of literature, and many images, landscapes and concepts that will stick with you long after the elements of plot have long faded from the memory.
Oh, and the chariot race and the celebration-cum-ambush that followed was definitely one of my favourite moments in the novel.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 3, 2020
Maybe it's the heroine's own amnesiac and somewhat flippant nature - that she's obviously from an age long forgotten - why the entire world of this book ended up feeling a little... dreamlike, oneiric, half-real at best, with a bunch of things happening and people being established, in a relative vacuum, before we move on to a different land where the same then repeats. None of it grabbed me very well, especially towards the end, when things get really weird. And what was up with that lizard?
It's not all that important, though - it's the characters that always mattered to me, and those in turn are well-realized, with actions and behavior and feelings that make sense, relatable in their way and allowing easy investment in their plight. I was happy to follow the nameless main character on her journey of self-discovery, could dismiss the somewhat poorly-formed world around her as simply something she never cared about that much, and whenever she was in peril I too got a little tense and wanted to see her get out of it. The story flowed well and the prose, while not the best, kept together just fine.
It's not all that important, though - it's the characters that always mattered to me, and those in turn are well-realized, with actions and behavior and feelings that make sense, relatable in their way and allowing easy investment in their plight. I was happy to follow the nameless main character on her journey of self-discovery, could dismiss the somewhat poorly-formed world around her as simply something she never cared about that much, and whenever she was in peril I too got a little tense and wanted to see her get out of it. The story flowed well and the prose, while not the best, kept together just fine.
May 12, 2012
For the first 80% of this book, I did not expect to be giving it 5 stars. For the first 50% of this book, I wasn't sure whether or not I would give it 4. Yet here I am, 5 stars, and teary-eyed.
Haunted by a demon and living in a man-dominated world, Tanith Lee's at-first-unnamed protagonist stumbles forth in some vague quest to lift her curse. It is this vagueness, and the character's self-destructive impulses, that can at times make the story a little infuriating. Yet, reading the text was like entering a dream. Lee is a master with description, and I found myself intoxicated, returning again and again for a fix. With Lee's spell cast, I found myself relating more and more with the protagonist. She is one who loathes and fears herself, and yet...
I dare say, if you can see below the surface of this tale, you will see the story of everywoman.
Haunted by a demon and living in a man-dominated world, Tanith Lee's at-first-unnamed protagonist stumbles forth in some vague quest to lift her curse. It is this vagueness, and the character's self-destructive impulses, that can at times make the story a little infuriating. Yet, reading the text was like entering a dream. Lee is a master with description, and I found myself intoxicated, returning again and again for a fix. With Lee's spell cast, I found myself relating more and more with the protagonist. She is one who loathes and fears herself, and yet...
I dare say, if you can see below the surface of this tale, you will see the story of everywoman.
August 17, 2015
The voice of the narrator--unnamed but for those given by others--carries a weird calm and intensity, a detachment that speaks of underlying trauma or depression. She seems an observer in her own story, as she is slotted into roles and pushed into actions by the stereotypically dynamic and assertive male characters who would be the usual protagonists. She frequently disagrees with her own actions or second-guesses decisions, as though she wars with her own mind or does not know her own desires. Meanwhile the men see her as concubine, goddess, warrior, or slave, but always as a tool to their own advancement...and yet she always outlives their machinations. There is a sense throughout that her passivity is deceptive, and she is somehow influencing events.
The Lost One civilization, dead of a mysterious and sudden plague, cast a long shadow across the world. Their architecture and beliefs, even their biology, have been woven into the various cultures of the former slave races. Facts have been interpreted according to their limited understanding and twisted by their resentment. In some cases, the upper classes emulate traits of their former masters, or have a tendency for their cruelty or violence.
The Lost Ones are conceptually Melnibonéan, sort of elfin in the Unseelie sense, inhuman and otherworldly and brutal and beautiful all at once. Their wreckage is everywhere, and their existence and demise is palpable throughout the work, with the reader left to untangle fact and fiction from the distorted strands, and this was my joy in reading the work.
The Lost One civilization, dead of a mysterious and sudden plague, cast a long shadow across the world. Their architecture and beliefs, even their biology, have been woven into the various cultures of the former slave races. Facts have been interpreted according to their limited understanding and twisted by their resentment. In some cases, the upper classes emulate traits of their former masters, or have a tendency for their cruelty or violence.
The Lost Ones are conceptually Melnibonéan, sort of elfin in the Unseelie sense, inhuman and otherworldly and brutal and beautiful all at once. Their wreckage is everywhere, and their existence and demise is palpable throughout the work, with the reader left to untangle fact and fiction from the distorted strands, and this was my joy in reading the work.
July 31, 2021
Boy, I thought this book was great until the last quarter or so. You can tell Lee is making it up as she goes along, but when the writing is so unmistakably literary, and the adventure so dramatic, who cares?
But the real climax of the book is at the end of the second part; the 3rd section has its moments, but the novel ultimately ends in a horrendous Freudian Star Trek way that is an incredibly disappointing cop out.
Which is too bad, because the rest is excellent. Okay, the dialogue is stilted. Okay, it takes awhile for the narrator to come into herself as a character. But this sort of raw, brutal, fantastic bildungsroman, with its rich mythology, psychedelic turns, feminist edge and Jungian archetypes, is right up my alley.
A fine example of literary paperback fantasy circa the mid 70s.
Taken from a Free Library in Littleton, NH.
"[I]n the loose velvet gowns I had now to wear, the thing in my womb seemed an imposition, something nailed onto my own self, thrusting out, taking possession: a haunting. Three times I tried to get rid of it." (267)
"I would be a woman, as women were reckoned n this place, a half-souled, witless animal, created to bear and pleasure men; an afterthought of the god." (323)
But the real climax of the book is at the end of the second part; the 3rd section has its moments, but the novel ultimately ends in a horrendous Freudian Star Trek way that is an incredibly disappointing cop out.
Which is too bad, because the rest is excellent. Okay, the dialogue is stilted. Okay, it takes awhile for the narrator to come into herself as a character. But this sort of raw, brutal, fantastic bildungsroman, with its rich mythology, psychedelic turns, feminist edge and Jungian archetypes, is right up my alley.
A fine example of literary paperback fantasy circa the mid 70s.
Taken from a Free Library in Littleton, NH.
"[I]n the loose velvet gowns I had now to wear, the thing in my womb seemed an imposition, something nailed onto my own self, thrusting out, taking possession: a haunting. Three times I tried to get rid of it." (267)
"I would be a woman, as women were reckoned n this place, a half-souled, witless animal, created to bear and pleasure men; an afterthought of the god." (323)
March 5, 2018
This is the first in the Birthgrave trilogy, and the first adult novel published by the author who had previously published at least one children's book. Written at the age of only 22 years old, in many ways it is a tour de force, and yet I struggled to get through the densely written 408 pages.
The story is told from the first person viewpoint of a young woman whose first real memory is of waking up in the dark and finding her way out of what turns out to be a volcano on the verge of eruption. Before she escapes, she is confronted by an entity within a flame, calling itself Karrakaz , which taunts her with the accusation that she is the last of a race, beautiful, longlived and powerful, who used their abilities to indulge their decadent tastes and to enslave ordinary humans. Apart from her, they all died of a disease sent to punish their evil. Now she is under a curse and must find a mystical jade to overcome the evil she, too, has inherited. Karrakaz shows her an image of herself and she sees that she is hideously ugly.
When she leaves the volcano and reaches a nearby village, she covers her face. The people take her for a goddess, and she becomes a virtual prisoner within their temple, having to heal those who visit - for her touch does heal, although the ability seems to work only if the person believes in her. Before long, a bandit chief, Darak, arrives with his followers. He is uneasy around her although he covers it with indifference and scorn, professing to think she is a fraud. Unaccountably, she is drawn to him and gives up a chance to escape, instead going with him and becoming his 'woman'. This is a society where women are chattels. She views the bandit women with distaste, for they accept their subservience and are small minded and spiteful. Yet her emotional enslavement to Darak renders her vulnerable to being discounted as a mere woman, and she fears this most of all.
As she lives with the bandits and incurs the jealousy of a violent woman, she discovers that she rapidly heals when injured. Food and drink make her ill so she takes both sparingly. Three men are drawn to become her protectors and they coach her in horse riding, bowmanship and fighting skills, though she is a 'natural' and exceeds her teachers when it comes to the bow.
Darak is a risk taker and his schemes draw her into killing, and later into an extremely dangerous chariot race which proves fatal indeed. Afterwards, she becomes involved with other human communities, including another travelling caravan, and eventually finds her way to the cities beyond the mountains. The people there are the inheritors of her own people and ape their ways, although they do not have her powers and abilities, apart from one man, Vazkor, who claims to be another survivor from her race and exerts a fascination over her despite her will. Again she is acclaimed as a goddess, but for Vazkor's purposes, as he uses her to gain power. And again three men pledge themselves faithful unto death to guard her. She is involved in wars, is enslaved and escapes after giving birth and leaving her child to be raised by a rather unpleasant tribe, and eventually finds an answer to her meandering quest in what is literally a deus ex machina.
Along the way, many minor characters have a short life expectancy once they run into her, although it isn't always her direct fault. But I started to feel that whenever she met anyone who was half decent, they were bound to come to grief. Most of the men, apart from her bodyguards and the men of the gentle tribe in the marshes who she meets near the end of the book, are brutal oppressors of women and quite often force themselves on her either through seduction or outright rape, although she is so detached from the whole experience and heals so quickly, she remains unscathed. The women, apart from a couple of healers and the marsh tribe women, are all petty, small minded and sometimes murderously jealous of her position with the men or others.
Life in various wandering communities is well conjured down to the unpleasant smells of the unwashed bodies and the squalor of some, and so is the contrasting opulence and corruption of the cities. The prose is lush and the themes and setting are reminiscient of the work of Clark Ashton Smith or Michael Moorcock.
The book is quite a frustrating read however. Despite her powers and abilities, the protagonist is often passive. Sometimes she is a superwoman, riding to battle and slaughtering her opponents, or riding in a chariot pulling off unbelievable feats with a bow. Other times, she allows others to push her around and permits situations to arise where others have to throw their lives away to protect her. This passivity is explained at the end in the deus ex machina section referred to previously but it is somewhat disappointing that yet another man is required to bring her to self knowledge rather than her finding it for herself.
The story is told from the first person viewpoint of a young woman whose first real memory is of waking up in the dark and finding her way out of what turns out to be a volcano on the verge of eruption. Before she escapes, she is confronted by an entity within a flame, calling itself Karrakaz , which taunts her with the accusation that she is the last of a race, beautiful, longlived and powerful, who used their abilities to indulge their decadent tastes and to enslave ordinary humans. Apart from her, they all died of a disease sent to punish their evil. Now she is under a curse and must find a mystical jade to overcome the evil she, too, has inherited. Karrakaz shows her an image of herself and she sees that she is hideously ugly.
When she leaves the volcano and reaches a nearby village, she covers her face. The people take her for a goddess, and she becomes a virtual prisoner within their temple, having to heal those who visit - for her touch does heal, although the ability seems to work only if the person believes in her. Before long, a bandit chief, Darak, arrives with his followers. He is uneasy around her although he covers it with indifference and scorn, professing to think she is a fraud. Unaccountably, she is drawn to him and gives up a chance to escape, instead going with him and becoming his 'woman'. This is a society where women are chattels. She views the bandit women with distaste, for they accept their subservience and are small minded and spiteful. Yet her emotional enslavement to Darak renders her vulnerable to being discounted as a mere woman, and she fears this most of all.
As she lives with the bandits and incurs the jealousy of a violent woman, she discovers that she rapidly heals when injured. Food and drink make her ill so she takes both sparingly. Three men are drawn to become her protectors and they coach her in horse riding, bowmanship and fighting skills, though she is a 'natural' and exceeds her teachers when it comes to the bow.
Darak is a risk taker and his schemes draw her into killing, and later into an extremely dangerous chariot race which proves fatal indeed. Afterwards, she becomes involved with other human communities, including another travelling caravan, and eventually finds her way to the cities beyond the mountains. The people there are the inheritors of her own people and ape their ways, although they do not have her powers and abilities, apart from one man, Vazkor, who claims to be another survivor from her race and exerts a fascination over her despite her will. Again she is acclaimed as a goddess, but for Vazkor's purposes, as he uses her to gain power. And again three men pledge themselves faithful unto death to guard her. She is involved in wars, is enslaved and escapes after giving birth and leaving her child to be raised by a rather unpleasant tribe, and eventually finds an answer to her meandering quest in what is literally a deus ex machina.
Along the way, many minor characters have a short life expectancy once they run into her, although it isn't always her direct fault. But I started to feel that whenever she met anyone who was half decent, they were bound to come to grief. Most of the men, apart from her bodyguards and the men of the gentle tribe in the marshes who she meets near the end of the book, are brutal oppressors of women and quite often force themselves on her either through seduction or outright rape, although she is so detached from the whole experience and heals so quickly, she remains unscathed. The women, apart from a couple of healers and the marsh tribe women, are all petty, small minded and sometimes murderously jealous of her position with the men or others.
Life in various wandering communities is well conjured down to the unpleasant smells of the unwashed bodies and the squalor of some, and so is the contrasting opulence and corruption of the cities. The prose is lush and the themes and setting are reminiscient of the work of Clark Ashton Smith or Michael Moorcock.
The book is quite a frustrating read however. Despite her powers and abilities, the protagonist is often passive. Sometimes she is a superwoman, riding to battle and slaughtering her opponents, or riding in a chariot pulling off unbelievable feats with a bow. Other times, she allows others to push her around and permits situations to arise where others have to throw their lives away to protect her. This passivity is explained at the end in the deus ex machina section referred to previously but it is somewhat disappointing that yet another man is required to bring her to self knowledge rather than her finding it for herself.
December 27, 2018
I cannot believe I read another of Tanith Lee's books. This book had no plot. If you're a stickler for plot you're probably not going to like this book. And the ending! Wow! I have never read such a horrible ending. We follow this amnesic "goddess" through multiple adventures in this sort of ancient, tribal land only to have all the questions answered at the very end when this nameless goddess gets abducted onto a UFO! That's right--UFO!!!! This UFO is apparently equipped with a super-computer that can read all repressed memories, thus restoring to one amnesic heroine her history and sense of self. And I thought Mark Twain really messed up the ending to Huckleberry Finn. At least he didn't have Huck and Jim beamed up to the Mothership. Perhaps that is just one of the differences between a great American writer and a "staff pick" at Powells.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 24, 2023
3.5⭐
I've been staring at the covers of Tanith Lee's books for decades. I finally read one. I don't know why it's taken me so long, except fantasy was never really my main thing. And what I did read left me spoiled: Tolkien, Le Guin; McKillip, Vance, Leiber, Howard. I tried a raft of lesser writers and was disappointed, so I largely stopped trying. Mistake in Lee's case. A very solid writer, with a descriptive flair and an original style, just the right side of flowery. Her character is a kick-ass, warrior woman/witch two decades before Xena. Re-born in the middle of an erupting volcano, she must rediscover her identity, her powers and her purpose in a world of men bent on owning/using her.
Lee has created a stone cold, casual killer in the mode of Conan, but with a far more interesting backstory. Also like Howard, Lee can use sex and violence to spice up a story without resorting to pornography or splatter-fest. Her plot is convoluted but she brings it to a mostly satisfying conclusion ( OK- there's more than touch of deus ex machina in the ending, but I've seen way worse). Also, the character (who goes by different names over the course of the book) evolves into a more nuanced individual in a convincing fashion. All amidst a backdrop of exotic locales, deeply flawed heros, scary villians and dangerous women.
I seem to be on a bit of a trend for catching up on the works of good writers I've previously overlooked: Octavia Butler, Naomi Mitchison, Clifford D Simak. I now have the pleasure of adding Tanith Lee's books to that pile.
-30-
I've been staring at the covers of Tanith Lee's books for decades. I finally read one. I don't know why it's taken me so long, except fantasy was never really my main thing. And what I did read left me spoiled: Tolkien, Le Guin; McKillip, Vance, Leiber, Howard. I tried a raft of lesser writers and was disappointed, so I largely stopped trying. Mistake in Lee's case. A very solid writer, with a descriptive flair and an original style, just the right side of flowery. Her character is a kick-ass, warrior woman/witch two decades before Xena. Re-born in the middle of an erupting volcano, she must rediscover her identity, her powers and her purpose in a world of men bent on owning/using her.
Lee has created a stone cold, casual killer in the mode of Conan, but with a far more interesting backstory. Also like Howard, Lee can use sex and violence to spice up a story without resorting to pornography or splatter-fest. Her plot is convoluted but she brings it to a mostly satisfying conclusion ( OK- there's more than touch of deus ex machina in the ending, but I've seen way worse). Also, the character (who goes by different names over the course of the book) evolves into a more nuanced individual in a convincing fashion. All amidst a backdrop of exotic locales, deeply flawed heros, scary villians and dangerous women.
I seem to be on a bit of a trend for catching up on the works of good writers I've previously overlooked: Octavia Butler, Naomi Mitchison, Clifford D Simak. I now have the pleasure of adding Tanith Lee's books to that pile.
-30-
March 18, 2013
Нека ви разкажа за един свят с много цветове и никаква надежда, населяван от белите полубогове албиноси и техните човешки тъмни слуги. Красивите принцове на елфическия етер и мръсните животни наречени, тъмни хуманоидни подлоги. Красотата и свръхспособностите се израждат в най-естественото — тотално забвение на морал и правила, абсолютна корупция на съзнанието и израждане на поколенията в безмилостни безсмъртни господари на света и всичко около него.
Наказанието все пак идва, без ясна причина или причинител, и безотказно погива хиляди благословени божества от пъстрия свят, разграждайки ги до последна полумъртва клетка в адска белоснежна чума. Някой някъде обаче оцелява, без въздух, вода или живот, и се въздига от мъртвите да възроди света на своето детство, който не помни, но сънува, без да съзнава разликата между ден и мисъл. И тук се поставя началото на прекрасната елегия на Танит Ли за белокосата носителка на проклятие, по-старо от самото време, която тръгва из богатия, жесток и мръсен свят на своите деди, за да търси себе си, без да познава дори собствените си очи.
Роден гроб е великолепие на думите и образите, героите са плътни и абсурдни, живеещи ден за ден, но никога в спокойствие, увереност или по някакви дори минимални правила. През вулкани и гори, ледени пустини и източни джунгли, древни империи и забравени от дните царства, героинята без име, или по-точно с много имена, жъне животите на всички, посмели да я обикнат или намразят, или и двете. Богиня или най-низка робиня, жена-воин или лечителка от забравена раса, родоначалник на миналото или носител на края на настоящото, съществото, изпълзяло от своя гроб, родено втори път в неестествена форма на съществувание, пробва по малко от любовта и страха, и тъгата. А добрият край никога не идва. Ноарно, вълшебно, затрогващо до разширяване на зениците, поглъщащо целите склери на читателя при мисълта за поредната непоносима жестокост, смърт и насилие. С които поредицата се радва на гротескно изобилие и плътно отчаяние. Законите, които карат героинята ни да живее, не са нашите правила и тя няма избора ни да живеем или да си отидем. За нея другият свят не е топъл дом, а вечността я отхвърля, пренатежала от собствената й кръв и болка. И само истината за това коя е всъщност, подадена й от истинските богове на висините и технологиите, може ако не да я освободи от самата нея, поне да й посочи път, по който страданието да е с една мисъл по-малко от обикновеното.
Вазкор, синът на Вазкор и Търсенето на Бялата вещица са продълженията на живота на албиносната богиня, може би някак излишни и все пак безкрайно нужни, за тези, които копнеят за някакъв финал, невключващ просто вдигане на рамене и чисто упование, че утрешният ден няма да те прочисти от белия свят. Синът, заченат в болка, лъжа и унижение, неунищожимият плод на несбъднала се огромна любов, тръгва по пътя на майка си, изпълнен с всички заблуди, омраза и тиха лудост, на които само един мъж без смисъл в живота си може да е способен. Ако в първата книга героинята ни бе водена от простия си инстинкт за неумиране, както и от абсолютната невъзможност за това впрочем, в продълженията водещата звезда се нарича отмъщение, а опашката й носи краткото определение ненавист. А в името на тъмнината могат да се направят много повече чудеса, отколкото в безумното търсене на своето собствено аз. Страхът от магията и истинската кръв се изместват от опиянение от различността и трепетно желание за диво унищожение на архаичния враг, олицетворен в утробата, неудостоила детето с повече от минималното пространство за зачатие на живота. Което е просто един по-различен начин за израстване и пътешествие към самия себе си, който в крайна сметка може би не познаваме толкова, колкото искрено вярваме.
Танит Ли не е за всеки и все пак бих препоръчала на всеки да се докосне до магията й. Може и да се опари извън възможността за изцеление, но може и да се влюби в болката от думите и картините на болезнена красота и изродена човечност. Безсилие, безсърдечие, безумие. И много странна анормалност, все пак не истинска лудост, а усещане за наднормалните вълнения и виждания, разбиващи на прах всяка секунда привидно организиран живот и гарантирана тиха смърт.
Някъде между боговете и чудовищата в човешка форма съществува един маргинален свят, вземащ най-лошото от всички реалмии, и все пак дишащ и живеещ в тази естествена миазма на сътворението.
Танит го е виждала и може да ни го предаде чрез световете на своите думи, но пътешествието може да ви струва смъртта на поне няколко цвята от обичайния ви светоглед. Дали бихте рискували своите смъртни очи за безсмъртните видения отвъд всички граници? Предизвикателство не за всеки, а за някого конкретно. Дали си ти?
Наказанието все пак идва, без ясна причина или причинител, и безотказно погива хиляди благословени божества от пъстрия свят, разграждайки ги до последна полумъртва клетка в адска белоснежна чума. Някой някъде обаче оцелява, без въздух, вода или живот, и се въздига от мъртвите да възроди света на своето детство, който не помни, но сънува, без да съзнава разликата между ден и мисъл. И тук се поставя началото на прекрасната елегия на Танит Ли за белокосата носителка на проклятие, по-старо от самото време, която тръгва из богатия, жесток и мръсен свят на своите деди, за да търси себе си, без да познава дори собствените си очи.
Роден гроб е великолепие на думите и образите, героите са плътни и абсурдни, живеещи ден за ден, но никога в спокойствие, увереност или по някакви дори минимални правила. През вулкани и гори, ледени пустини и източни джунгли, древни империи и забравени от дните царства, героинята без име, или по-точно с много имена, жъне животите на всички, посмели да я обикнат или намразят, или и двете. Богиня или най-низка робиня, жена-воин или лечителка от забравена раса, родоначалник на миналото или носител на края на настоящото, съществото, изпълзяло от своя гроб, родено втори път в неестествена форма на съществувание, пробва по малко от любовта и страха, и тъгата. А добрият край никога не идва. Ноарно, вълшебно, затрогващо до разширяване на зениците, поглъщащо целите склери на читателя при мисълта за поредната непоносима жестокост, смърт и насилие. С които поредицата се радва на гротескно изобилие и плътно отчаяние. Законите, които карат героинята ни да живее, не са нашите правила и тя няма избора ни да живеем или да си отидем. За нея другият свят не е топъл дом, а вечността я отхвърля, пренатежала от собствената й кръв и болка. И само истината за това коя е всъщност, подадена й от истинските богове на висините и технологиите, може ако не да я освободи от самата нея, поне да й посочи път, по който страданието да е с една мисъл по-малко от обикновеното.
Вазкор, синът на Вазкор и Търсенето на Бялата вещица са продълженията на живота на албиносната богиня, може би някак излишни и все пак безкрайно нужни, за тези, които копнеят за някакъв финал, невключващ просто вдигане на рамене и чисто упование, че утрешният ден няма да те прочисти от белия свят. Синът, заченат в болка, лъжа и унижение, неунищожимият плод на несбъднала се огромна любов, тръгва по пътя на майка си, изпълнен с всички заблуди, омраза и тиха лудост, на които само един мъж без смисъл в живота си може да е способен. Ако в първата книга героинята ни бе водена от простия си инстинкт за неумиране, както и от абсолютната невъзможност за това впрочем, в продълженията водещата звезда се нарича отмъщение, а опашката й носи краткото определение ненавист. А в името на тъмнината могат да се направят много повече чудеса, отколкото в безумното търсене на своето собствено аз. Страхът от магията и истинската кръв се изместват от опиянение от различността и трепетно желание за диво унищожение на архаичния враг, олицетворен в утробата, неудостоила детето с повече от минималното пространство за зачатие на живота. Което е просто един по-различен начин за израстване и пътешествие към самия себе си, който в крайна сметка може би не познаваме толкова, колкото искрено вярваме.
Танит Ли не е за всеки и все пак бих препоръчала на всеки да се докосне до магията й. Може и да се опари извън възможността за изцеление, но може и да се влюби в болката от думите и картините на болезнена красота и изродена човечност. Безсилие, безсърдечие, безумие. И много странна анормалност, все пак не истинска лудост, а усещане за наднормалните вълнения и виждания, разбиващи на прах всяка секунда привидно организиран живот и гарантирана тиха смърт.
Някъде между боговете и чудовищата в човешка форма съществува един маргинален свят, вземащ най-лошото от всички реалмии, и все пак дишащ и живеещ в тази естествена миазма на сътворението.
Танит го е виждала и може да ни го предаде чрез световете на своите думи, но пътешествието може да ви струва смъртта на поне няколко цвята от обичайния ви светоглед. Дали бихте рискували своите смъртни очи за безсмъртните видения отвъд всички граници? Предизвикателство не за всеки, а за някого конкретно. Дали си ти?
February 13, 2020
DNF, pg 50 (+ final 15 pgs). I gave this three separate chances, but nope. I don't like Tanith Lee's writing. It's not just THE BIRTHGRAVE; I tried her contemp horror & didn't care for that, either. Clearly her voice isn't to my taste.
I will say this much re: content. While I'm aware of the 'pulpy barbarian warrior' type this sprouts from, & also that female-oriented fantasy was in its early stages back then (1975, I believe?), this is a good example of Trying Too Hard. It's shrilly aware of its own feminist leanings, as if the author seems determined to make her MC too uncouth, too uncaring, too unmaternal, too unfeminine...i.e., the absolute antithesis of fantasy stereotypes (or at least up until that point). While there's nothing wrong with an unfeminine lead -- refer to CL Moore's JIREL OF JOIRY in the 1930s, or Mark Lawrence's RED SISTER in the 2010s -- neither Moore nor Lawrence feel compelled to repeatedly bludgeon the reader with how distant the heroine feels, or how she cares nothing for anyone, or doesn't know normal emotions, or has a total lack of maternal instinct, etc etc. It all comes through quite naturally in the storytelling. In contrast, Lee's insistence on emphasizing this narrator's Not Like Other Girls bizarro nature is just too much.
As if that isn't irksome enough, BIRTHGRAVE feels meandering & plotless, plodding through a dismal, unpleasant, scarcely described world populated by dismal, unpleasant, depthless characters. I did read the final pages, as I was curious to see this infamous deus-ex-machina that cheesed off so many reviewers, & guess what? They're right. :D So there you go.
1.5 stars, rounded up. I can see the importance of this (& similar reads) in the development of fantasy subgenres & characterization -- but I don't care enough to push through. (And sweet mother of pearl, I hated both the narrator & that moron Darak. 🙄)
Random: I love the reissue covers for this trilogy, very elegant & dark. Too bad I didn't enjoy the content as much as the artistic interpretation. >__>
I will say this much re: content. While I'm aware of the 'pulpy barbarian warrior' type this sprouts from, & also that female-oriented fantasy was in its early stages back then (1975, I believe?), this is a good example of Trying Too Hard. It's shrilly aware of its own feminist leanings, as if the author seems determined to make her MC too uncouth, too uncaring, too unmaternal, too unfeminine...i.e., the absolute antithesis of fantasy stereotypes (or at least up until that point). While there's nothing wrong with an unfeminine lead -- refer to CL Moore's JIREL OF JOIRY in the 1930s, or Mark Lawrence's RED SISTER in the 2010s -- neither Moore nor Lawrence feel compelled to repeatedly bludgeon the reader with how distant the heroine feels, or how she cares nothing for anyone, or doesn't know normal emotions, or has a total lack of maternal instinct, etc etc. It all comes through quite naturally in the storytelling. In contrast, Lee's insistence on emphasizing this narrator's Not Like Other Girls bizarro nature is just too much.
As if that isn't irksome enough, BIRTHGRAVE feels meandering & plotless, plodding through a dismal, unpleasant, scarcely described world populated by dismal, unpleasant, depthless characters. I did read the final pages, as I was curious to see this infamous deus-ex-machina that cheesed off so many reviewers, & guess what? They're right. :D So there you go.
1.5 stars, rounded up. I can see the importance of this (& similar reads) in the development of fantasy subgenres & characterization -- but I don't care enough to push through. (And sweet mother of pearl, I hated both the narrator & that moron Darak. 🙄)
Random: I love the reissue covers for this trilogy, very elegant & dark. Too bad I didn't enjoy the content as much as the artistic interpretation. >__>
September 7, 2016
DNF @ 44%
I've already spent too much of my life on this book. I'll keep this short, sweet, and to the point.
The story was unfocused. The heroine wanders from place to place with no real end goal (every so often, she'll remember that she's supposed to be going on an actual quest, but it never happened in the 44% I read).
The scenery that was described was nice to picture. I enjoyed the detail that was given to the various cultures of the people the heroine journeys with. I won't fault the book for those, as they were done fairly well. But the characters? Didn't give a hoot about them. Most of them are introduced, given a few scenes with the MC, then dropped from the plot. The heroine is implied to be inhuman, and claims not to have any emotions (that's BS, but I won't get into that). So...she never really forms bonds with these "friends" of hers. When horrible things happen to them, she doesn't care in the slightest and just moves on. How can I, the one seeing through her eyes, be bothered to care if she doesn't?
Final Rating: 2/5 Stars. I'm giving it an extra star because quite a few of the cultures, locations, themes, and ideas were interesting. Too bad this book was an emotionless slog to get though. I don't feel like wasting my time on this any longer. I've taken out the bookmark, and it's time to move on.
I've already spent too much of my life on this book. I'll keep this short, sweet, and to the point.
The story was unfocused. The heroine wanders from place to place with no real end goal (every so often, she'll remember that she's supposed to be going on an actual quest, but it never happened in the 44% I read).
The scenery that was described was nice to picture. I enjoyed the detail that was given to the various cultures of the people the heroine journeys with. I won't fault the book for those, as they were done fairly well. But the characters? Didn't give a hoot about them. Most of them are introduced, given a few scenes with the MC, then dropped from the plot. The heroine is implied to be inhuman, and claims not to have any emotions (that's BS, but I won't get into that). So...she never really forms bonds with these "friends" of hers. When horrible things happen to them, she doesn't care in the slightest and just moves on. How can I, the one seeing through her eyes, be bothered to care if she doesn't?
Final Rating: 2/5 Stars. I'm giving it an extra star because quite a few of the cultures, locations, themes, and ideas were interesting. Too bad this book was an emotionless slog to get though. I don't feel like wasting my time on this any longer. I've taken out the bookmark, and it's time to move on.
March 25, 2021
I looked, and have no notes, and no real memory of the book. I do remember that cover! And may even still have a copy. Likely read in the early 80s, in Tucson. Most likely a used copy from Bookman's -- which is well worth a visit. I think they still have a branch in Phoenix? Used to be several more....
I have many, many books from Bookman's in my personal library. And have recycled far more than that! Mostly right back to Bookman's.....
https://bookmans.com/ 3 in Tucson, 2 in PHX, 1 in Flag. Good to see they are still in business!
[/commercial]
I have many, many books from Bookman's in my personal library. And have recycled far more than that! Mostly right back to Bookman's.....
https://bookmans.com/ 3 in Tucson, 2 in PHX, 1 in Flag. Good to see they are still in business!
[/commercial]
September 4, 2010
I really wanted to like this book. I read it to the end, hoping the lead character would redeem herself. But she never did. She is a goddess, with superpowers, but she allows herself to repeatedly be a victim of any victimizer within range.
I heard Tanith Lee was a feminist fantasy author, so I had high hopes for this... and maybe I missed something... but this book sucked.
I heard Tanith Lee was a feminist fantasy author, so I had high hopes for this... and maybe I missed something... but this book sucked.
May 14, 2013
Da:
http://www.webalice.it/michele.castel...
Un Consiglio di Lettura molto particolare, questo mese. Perché è un consiglio a scopo didattico, più che per il divertimento della lettura. Un consiglio per cercare di capire quello che si legge, saper valutare come è scritto, entrare un poco più in profondità nel giudizio dello stile di scrittura rispetto a seguire la trama solo per vedere come va a finire.
Perché lo faccio? Non lo so. Solo che riordinando le migliaia di ebook in mio possesso, sono capitato su quelli di Tanith Lee, scrittrice fantasy di tanti anni fa di cui la mia biblioteca cartacea ospita diversi romanzi che mi avevano lasciato un ricordo piuttosto ambiguo. Diciamo che nonostante i tanti elogi che questa scrittrice riceveva, a me non era mai piaciuta troppo. Un po' incuriosito da questi ricordi, ho deciso di rileggere il suo primo romanzo, una via di mezzo tra uno sword and sorcery e un dark fantasy. Queste sono definizioni che hanno acquisito un significato preciso solo molto dopo che sono apparse opere usate poi come esempi per definire le definizioni stesse. Inizialmente c'era molta confusione tra i generi e non si sottilizzava poi troppo, gli scrittori non si ponevano il problema di quale sottogenere sarebbe stato inventato per classificare i loro romanzi.
Rileggendo questo romanzo dopo circa 35 anni dalla prima lettura, essendo, credo, maturato anche come lettore, più consapevole di quali siano i pregi e i difetti di un romanzo, specialmente di un romanzo di genere, non posso che rilevare i suoi molti punti deboli, l'ingenuità di molte scelte, la debolezza generale della trama, ma sopratutto il pessimo stile di scrittura, che a suo tempo mi aveva solo portato a non gradire molto questa opera.
Iniziando a leggere Nata dal Vulcano la prima osservazione che si può fare è sull'eccesso di aggettivi ed avverbi. Ogni frase è appesantita da un abuso di aggettivi aggiunti quasi ad ogni sostantivo, nel tentativo di generare nel lettore emozioni e sensazioni che la debolezza della narrazione non è in grado di fornire. E' il tipico errore dello scrittore alle prime armi, quando non ha ancora capito che le emozioni le deve rendere la capacità di presentazione della scena, la descrizione di quanto avviene. Se la descrizione è carente, se non c'è capacità di presentare i fatti nella loro dinamica reale, e sopratutto se gli avvenimenti non sono di per sè emozionanti, l'aggiunta di una manata di aggettivi e di avverbi non aiuta affatto a rendere la scena più emotivamente sentita, anzi.
La trama di Nata dal Vulcano non brilla certo per originalità, anche tenendo conto dell'anno di pubblicazione, basata com'è sulla classica situazione del protagonista che non ricorda niente di se stesso, e deve riscoprire il suo passato mentre riconquista i suoi poteri. La descrizione del Mondo in cui la storia si svolge, il World Building, è in questi casi un elemento fondamentale, ma qui è svolto in maniera impacciata, anche se con molto impegno. Molti aspetti rimangono oscuri, il che non sarebbe di per se stesso un male, ma solo perché la spiegazione che ne viene data è limitata, qualche volta illogica, spesso banalmente carente, e sempre con un largo abuso di aggettivi ed avverbi che dovrebbero fare le veci di una descrizione più consapevole.
La Lee cerca poi di costruire un personaggio protagonista molto problematico, con contorsioni psicologiche che dovrebbero derivare da complessi di colpa dovuti ad eventi della propria fanciullezza, e che ne condizionano tutto il comportamento fino alla catarsi finale. Purtroppo per buona parte del romanzo questo aspetto è molto poco apparente, sommerso letteralmente dall'illogicità di comportamento della protagonista che però non porta a sospettare alcunché di profondo, fino a quando, come il classico Deus ex Machina, l'incontro con degli alieni le permette finalmente di capire la natura del suo conflitto interno. Il finale è quindi estremamente povero, perché rende esplicito che non vi era una storia davvero interessante da scoprire per giustificare il comportamento illogico e molto infantile della protagonista.
Letto con la mia consapevolezza di oggi, è un romanzo banale, scritto molto male, del tutto deludente. Eppure ha avuto un discreto successo ai suoi tempi, e la Lee è stata considerata per un po' di tempo una autrice originale nel campo fantasy (forse per qualche tocco di sessualità esplicita che qui è appena accennata ma è più forte nei suoi romanzi successivi).
Dopo una ventina d'anni non è stata più in grado di pubblicare altri romanzi, nessun editore ne ha più accettati. Forse anche nel campo fantasy stava facendosi largo un concetto di qualità di scrittura che tagliava fuori gli scrittori da questo punto di vista più deboli.
Ma questo solo nel mondo anglosassone, perché in Italia la pubblicazione di opere al limite dell'illeggibile, e qualche volta anche oltre, è tranquillamente proseguita fino ai giorni attuali, e rappresenta forse la maggior parte delle pubblicazioni di autori italiani.
July 29, 2016
The news of Lee's death last year inspired me to read something of hers, and The Birthgrave was at the top of lots of recommendation lists, so I picked this one. I've read one of her books before -- Heartbeast, back in the '90s -- and didn't think much of it, but I like to think that my tastes have matured since then. Still, I went into this book with some reluctance. It's lengthy and has small type, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for a style like Lee's. In the end, I was surprised I liked this book as much as I did.
The book, Lee's first published novel for adults, is about a nameless woman who at the start of the story walks out of a volcano as a cursed woman. She's immortal, and the mortals she encounters on her journey regard her as a goddess, but her goal is to find a glistening jade that will help her identify who she is. The story is about her journey to find that jade, and discover her identity.
Early in the reading, I remarked that it was a good story, but it wasn't something that begged to be picked up and read. I could read a section or a chapter, set it down, play a game on my phone, get up and get a snack, do a chore or two, and then come back to continue the story. At the same time, that pace fits the story well. We're going along on the main character's journey, and it's not something that can be rushed through. By the same token, when Lee wrote her action scenes, it was hard to stop reading. The chariot race, specifically, was one of the most engaging scenes of the novel.
Lee's style is poetic and flowing, sensual and personal, and there's a definite feminist angle to the story. The narrator isn't a damsel to be saved, isn't beholden to anyone, belongs to no one, and she takes her lovers as she will, without regret or worry. She's a strong character, not just because she's immortal and skilled, but because she has an identity that is all her own. The story is about her building that identity, so the further we go into the story, the better we understand the character.
The story is broken down into three sections, and in each one, the narrator encounters three tribes, and gets involved with three men. In the first section, the relationship is one of respect and admiration, as much as one could expect in a barbaric, patriarchal tribe. In the second section, she is arranged into a relationship with first one man, and then another. In the third section, she is forced into a relationship, as the tribe she encounters takes her in as a slave. It was an intriguing look at male-female relationships, more so when considering that the novel was published in 1977. Lee also examines power in each section, first as a gift, then as a controlling factor, and then having none. Interestingly, that examination converges nicely with her examination of the narrator's relationships.
I wasn't pleased with the ending. By the end of the novel, the narrator learns her name and her identity and history, which was the point of the story, but the means by which she learned all that seemed like a cop-out. It doesn't spoil the entire book, but it does feel like a cheat, and it left me feeling like it could have been handled better.
I still highly recommend the novel, especially for anyone who hasn't read Lee before. Despite my reluctance going into the book, and my disappointment with the ending, I liked it enough to get the next two books in the series, if for no other reason than for how Lee writes her narrative and her themes. In the end, The Birthgrave is a book that demands patience, but rewards you for it.
The book, Lee's first published novel for adults, is about a nameless woman who at the start of the story walks out of a volcano as a cursed woman. She's immortal, and the mortals she encounters on her journey regard her as a goddess, but her goal is to find a glistening jade that will help her identify who she is. The story is about her journey to find that jade, and discover her identity.
Early in the reading, I remarked that it was a good story, but it wasn't something that begged to be picked up and read. I could read a section or a chapter, set it down, play a game on my phone, get up and get a snack, do a chore or two, and then come back to continue the story. At the same time, that pace fits the story well. We're going along on the main character's journey, and it's not something that can be rushed through. By the same token, when Lee wrote her action scenes, it was hard to stop reading. The chariot race, specifically, was one of the most engaging scenes of the novel.
Lee's style is poetic and flowing, sensual and personal, and there's a definite feminist angle to the story. The narrator isn't a damsel to be saved, isn't beholden to anyone, belongs to no one, and she takes her lovers as she will, without regret or worry. She's a strong character, not just because she's immortal and skilled, but because she has an identity that is all her own. The story is about her building that identity, so the further we go into the story, the better we understand the character.
The story is broken down into three sections, and in each one, the narrator encounters three tribes, and gets involved with three men. In the first section, the relationship is one of respect and admiration, as much as one could expect in a barbaric, patriarchal tribe. In the second section, she is arranged into a relationship with first one man, and then another. In the third section, she is forced into a relationship, as the tribe she encounters takes her in as a slave. It was an intriguing look at male-female relationships, more so when considering that the novel was published in 1977. Lee also examines power in each section, first as a gift, then as a controlling factor, and then having none. Interestingly, that examination converges nicely with her examination of the narrator's relationships.
I wasn't pleased with the ending. By the end of the novel, the narrator learns her name and her identity and history, which was the point of the story, but the means by which she learned all that seemed like a cop-out. It doesn't spoil the entire book, but it does feel like a cheat, and it left me feeling like it could have been handled better.
I still highly recommend the novel, especially for anyone who hasn't read Lee before. Despite my reluctance going into the book, and my disappointment with the ending, I liked it enough to get the next two books in the series, if for no other reason than for how Lee writes her narrative and her themes. In the end, The Birthgrave is a book that demands patience, but rewards you for it.
May 23, 2019
This is an earlier Tanith Lee, and I think it shows. It has a lot of her trademarks - it's dark, it's centered on feminine horror and the cause and effect of the pebbles that turn into the avalanches that propel us. It was also f***ing weird, even for her.
CONTENT WARNING: (no actual spoilers, just a list of topics) I think that's everything, God help us.
Things to love:
-The beginning. Oh man, this is pure Tanith Lee right here. The first hundred or so pages were awesome. A screaming, rending, heart-thumping blend of the macabre and the epic, and all of it allegorical to the struggle of women (from a second-wave feminism standpoint).
-The cycles. Tanith just loves finishing the circle. She's the master at telling 3 stories that are one story that are all stories that are no stories. Everything builds on itself, and in pure goth fashion, instead of building to a full, satisfying conclusion, she Jenga-towers you and knocks it all down. Curtain falls. House lights come up. The end.
-The look at abuse. When it focuses on the allegory she started to build, it's incredible. If she'd tightened this up, it would have been eviscerating. There are lines throughout that just tear right through the heart of everything and ask all who've been hurt by the patriarchy to join hands and scream.
-The writing. I don't think this is her full polished form, but it's still some of the most evocative prose out there.
-The realizations. I'll talk more about this, but I liked her starting point. She had a lot to say. Not sure I loved how she said it all, but she crammed it all in.
Things that were not so great:
-The trauma. There were a lot of things in here that obviously traumatized the narrator. Weirdly, she didn't respond to any of the trauma to her body. This was pretty jarring.
-Overwrought. I think if this had been tightened, and lost maybe 100-150 pages, it would have been superb.
-Lost the allegory. After awhile we lost that same twisting sense of wrongness to be explored.
This made it hard for the wrap up realizations to really hit home--they come across more as justification rather than the powerful truths that they could have been.
-Lost the plot. It's a pretty simple plot, but it didn't come up much, so it feels a bit disjointed.
-The other women. As was standard with second wave feminism, all feminine interactions were competitions either for men's attention, or for domination of men themselves.
-WTH was that ending? Um...so...huh. This was a headscratcher and no mistake. Not a fan to be honest. I mean, I guess it was helpful and quick, but it was at once completely out of left field and trite.
Glad I read it, but more relieved that I did not start here with her, and that it's over. A weird, dark, twisted book with an Anne McCaffrey ending sort of decoupaged onto the ending. 2.5 rounded up because I still found a lot to enjoy even if there was some skimming involved.
CONTENT WARNING: (no actual spoilers, just a list of topics) I think that's everything, God help us.
Things to love:
-The beginning. Oh man, this is pure Tanith Lee right here. The first hundred or so pages were awesome. A screaming, rending, heart-thumping blend of the macabre and the epic, and all of it allegorical to the struggle of women (from a second-wave feminism standpoint).
-The cycles. Tanith just loves finishing the circle. She's the master at telling 3 stories that are one story that are all stories that are no stories. Everything builds on itself, and in pure goth fashion, instead of building to a full, satisfying conclusion, she Jenga-towers you and knocks it all down. Curtain falls. House lights come up. The end.
-The look at abuse. When it focuses on the allegory she started to build, it's incredible. If she'd tightened this up, it would have been eviscerating. There are lines throughout that just tear right through the heart of everything and ask all who've been hurt by the patriarchy to join hands and scream.
-The writing. I don't think this is her full polished form, but it's still some of the most evocative prose out there.
-The realizations. I'll talk more about this, but I liked her starting point. She had a lot to say. Not sure I loved how she said it all, but she crammed it all in.
Things that were not so great:
-The trauma. There were a lot of things in here that obviously traumatized the narrator. Weirdly, she didn't respond to any of the trauma to her body. This was pretty jarring.
-Overwrought. I think if this had been tightened, and lost maybe 100-150 pages, it would have been superb.
-Lost the allegory. After awhile we lost that same twisting sense of wrongness to be explored.
This made it hard for the wrap up realizations to really hit home--they come across more as justification rather than the powerful truths that they could have been.
-Lost the plot. It's a pretty simple plot, but it didn't come up much, so it feels a bit disjointed.
-The other women. As was standard with second wave feminism, all feminine interactions were competitions either for men's attention, or for domination of men themselves.
-WTH was that ending? Um...so...huh. This was a headscratcher and no mistake. Not a fan to be honest. I mean, I guess it was helpful and quick, but it was at once completely out of left field and trite.
Glad I read it, but more relieved that I did not start here with her, and that it's over. A weird, dark, twisted book with an Anne McCaffrey ending sort of decoupaged onto the ending. 2.5 rounded up because I still found a lot to enjoy even if there was some skimming involved.
November 19, 2015
This review originally appeared on my blog, Books Without Any Pictures:
http://bookswithoutanypictures.com/20...
The Birthgrave by Tanith Lee is the story of a young woman of an unknown race who wakes up in the bowels of a volcano. She’s the last of her kind, and has no idea who she is or where she came from. She only knows that a mysterious and vaguely sinister entity that calls itself Karrakaz has spoken to her, telling her of the atrocities her people committed. Only she has been spared, because she just a child when the reckoning came.
The young woman leaves the volcano and sets out into the world, leaving a path of destruction in her wake. She is unlike other mortals; she quickly finds that she cannot die, and regenerates from wounds. She can heal with a thought, but only if people believe hard enough. Eating and drinking make her feel ill, so she only does it once every week or two. As she travels, she is seduced by a series of powerful men, none of whom have any respect for her. Each of her relationships ends badly for everyone involved.
The Birthgrave was hard for me to read, and for much of the book, I was frustrated. The nameless protagonist kept making the same mistakes over and over again and never seemed to learn from them. It wasn’t until I got to the end of the book that I was truly impressed, for it changed my entire perception of the previous 400 pages. Without going into too many details, at its core, The Birthgrave is a metaphor for the destructive power that the notion of original sin can have on an individual. The protagonist pursued a reckless path of self-destruction because she was spurred on by shame and guilt, and she felt on some level that it was what she deserved. And when she finally rises above that, she is able to see the patterns she’s fallen what they really are. This message resonated with me tremendously. It was just a somewhat painful process to get to it, and I’m not enough of a masochist to be able to say that it was worth the tradeoff. And yet, I still may read the next book in the series.
Despite my frustrations with the plot, I loved Tanith Lee’s writing. Her language is lush and sensual, and the novel’s atmosphere was filled with a barbaric kind of beauty. This is the type of world where lust, passion, nightmares, and death are all intertwined, and at the same time, it had an oddly pulpy vibe.
http://bookswithoutanypictures.com/20...
The Birthgrave by Tanith Lee is the story of a young woman of an unknown race who wakes up in the bowels of a volcano. She’s the last of her kind, and has no idea who she is or where she came from. She only knows that a mysterious and vaguely sinister entity that calls itself Karrakaz has spoken to her, telling her of the atrocities her people committed. Only she has been spared, because she just a child when the reckoning came.
The young woman leaves the volcano and sets out into the world, leaving a path of destruction in her wake. She is unlike other mortals; she quickly finds that she cannot die, and regenerates from wounds. She can heal with a thought, but only if people believe hard enough. Eating and drinking make her feel ill, so she only does it once every week or two. As she travels, she is seduced by a series of powerful men, none of whom have any respect for her. Each of her relationships ends badly for everyone involved.
The Birthgrave was hard for me to read, and for much of the book, I was frustrated. The nameless protagonist kept making the same mistakes over and over again and never seemed to learn from them. It wasn’t until I got to the end of the book that I was truly impressed, for it changed my entire perception of the previous 400 pages. Without going into too many details, at its core, The Birthgrave is a metaphor for the destructive power that the notion of original sin can have on an individual. The protagonist pursued a reckless path of self-destruction because she was spurred on by shame and guilt, and she felt on some level that it was what she deserved. And when she finally rises above that, she is able to see the patterns she’s fallen what they really are. This message resonated with me tremendously. It was just a somewhat painful process to get to it, and I’m not enough of a masochist to be able to say that it was worth the tradeoff. And yet, I still may read the next book in the series.
Despite my frustrations with the plot, I loved Tanith Lee’s writing. Her language is lush and sensual, and the novel’s atmosphere was filled with a barbaric kind of beauty. This is the type of world where lust, passion, nightmares, and death are all intertwined, and at the same time, it had an oddly pulpy vibe.
Read
February 29, 2016A pagina 220 abbandono ufficialmente la lettura. Questo romanzo soffre pesantemente non solo della mancanza di esperienza dell'autrice, ma anche di un editor capace. Poco vale che si tratti di un'opera del 1975. I buchi nella storia sono decisamente troppi, non si riesce a seguire il filo logico degli eventi e, se all'inizio pensavo fosse un effetto voluto, ora credo proprio di no.
La scrittura non è fluida, ci sono troppe descrizioni inutili nei tempi morti mentre i fatti veri e propri vengono buttati lì grossolanamente in poche righe; la trama è povera e i personaggi poco credibili. Non c'è approfondimento psicologico: gli uomini sono stereotipati e di conseguenza i dialoghi sono stupidi. La protagonista stessa, che dovrebbe simboleggiare una rivalsa del sesso femminile, non convince affatto, succube di qualsiasi cosa le accada, è persino descritta più nell'aspetto fisico che in quello mentale/emotivo.
Peccato. L'inizio non sembrava così tragico ed ero quasi contenta della scelta. Ma non c'è crescita, questa dea/aliena alla ricerca di se stessa non evolve e non si scopre in modo chiaro. Tutto è lasciato all'immaginazione di un lettore che già deve fare i conti con lo stile narrativo ostico.
Mi dispiace e rinuncio a malincuore. Leggerò qualcos'altro di Tanith Lee, ma più avanti, quando avrò digerito questa delusione.
La scrittura non è fluida, ci sono troppe descrizioni inutili nei tempi morti mentre i fatti veri e propri vengono buttati lì grossolanamente in poche righe; la trama è povera e i personaggi poco credibili. Non c'è approfondimento psicologico: gli uomini sono stereotipati e di conseguenza i dialoghi sono stupidi. La protagonista stessa, che dovrebbe simboleggiare una rivalsa del sesso femminile, non convince affatto, succube di qualsiasi cosa le accada, è persino descritta più nell'aspetto fisico che in quello mentale/emotivo.
Peccato. L'inizio non sembrava così tragico ed ero quasi contenta della scelta. Ma non c'è crescita, questa dea/aliena alla ricerca di se stessa non evolve e non si scopre in modo chiaro. Tutto è lasciato all'immaginazione di un lettore che già deve fare i conti con lo stile narrativo ostico.
Mi dispiace e rinuncio a malincuore. Leggerò qualcos'altro di Tanith Lee, ma più avanti, quando avrò digerito questa delusione.
December 23, 2012
Tanith Lee's first foray into adult fantasy is this beautiful and haunting feminist sword and sorcery epic. The writing is beautifully baroque, the setting is wonderfully fantastic, and the central character is perhaps one of the most wonderfully well-realized characters in all of fantasy fiction.
A masterpiece.
A masterpiece.
January 17, 2024
What a powerful journey! While the second arc of this book had a momentary slowdown, the first and especially the third arcs were nothing short of amazing. The third book, in particular, was so captivating that I tore through it in one sitting.
Despite this being Tanith Lee’s debut adult novel, her command of prose is striking. Each sentence resonates with raw beauty, infusing the pages with vibrant vividness. However, this eloquence comes with a trade-off—the pacing dips as the narrator delves into her journey and internal struggles. The first and third arcs don’t suffer nearly as much, but that’s second arc drags as the narrator is tricked into serving a power-hungry warlord.
The book’s standout features are its captivating setting and profound theme. The sword and sorcery backdrop, asseen through a woman’s perspective, coupled with a science fiction twist reminiscent of Jack Vance’s “Dying Earth”, makes for a unique science-fantasy experience. Tanith Lee’s skillful pen brings this setting to life. Though I’d say my favorite part is the theme. The character work of the narrator overcoming her self-hatred and recognizing internal worth is a powerful thread that resonates throughout the narrative. It’s also a theme that Lee has written in her other works. This exploration of “beauty” in both internally and externally really speaks to me and tugs at my heart in ways I haven’t seen in other authors.
“The Birthgrave” is a transformative odyssey across a year of the narrator’s life. Her journey of self-discovery, both literal and metaphorical, culminates in newfound strength that crescendos even unto that last page. And the ending, full of hope, implies that this inner strength will bring positive transformation to her primal world, adding an extra layer of satisfaction to the narrative.
Were it not for that pacing dip in arc two, this would be an easy 5 stars. So, instead, we’ll go with a very solid 4/5.
Despite this being Tanith Lee’s debut adult novel, her command of prose is striking. Each sentence resonates with raw beauty, infusing the pages with vibrant vividness. However, this eloquence comes with a trade-off—the pacing dips as the narrator delves into her journey and internal struggles. The first and third arcs don’t suffer nearly as much, but that’s second arc drags as the narrator is tricked into serving a power-hungry warlord.
The book’s standout features are its captivating setting and profound theme. The sword and sorcery backdrop, asseen through a woman’s perspective, coupled with a science fiction twist reminiscent of Jack Vance’s “Dying Earth”, makes for a unique science-fantasy experience. Tanith Lee’s skillful pen brings this setting to life. Though I’d say my favorite part is the theme. The character work of the narrator overcoming her self-hatred and recognizing internal worth is a powerful thread that resonates throughout the narrative. It’s also a theme that Lee has written in her other works. This exploration of “beauty” in both internally and externally really speaks to me and tugs at my heart in ways I haven’t seen in other authors.
“The Birthgrave” is a transformative odyssey across a year of the narrator’s life. Her journey of self-discovery, both literal and metaphorical, culminates in newfound strength that crescendos even unto that last page. And the ending, full of hope, implies that this inner strength will bring positive transformation to her primal world, adding an extra layer of satisfaction to the narrative.
Were it not for that pacing dip in arc two, this would be an easy 5 stars. So, instead, we’ll go with a very solid 4/5.
March 5, 2017
...All things considered, I don't think this is a novel that really deserves the label classic. It is a book that had an impact when it was published, but one with so many flaws that I can't really call it a good book. If I compare this with the short story that made me pick up this novel, Lee must have developed considerably as a writer throughout her career. It is a fairly quick read if you let yourself be swept away by Lee's lovely prose and the emotional turmoil that surrounds the main character. For the slightly more analytical reader, this book has little to offer. The Birthgrave will probably remain a popular book for quite a while yet, but I was mildly disappointed with it.
Full Random Comments review.
Full Random Comments review.
July 16, 2014
Stuff I Read - The Birthgrave by Tanith Lee Review
I had no real idea of what to expect when I opened this book. I mean, that cover is kind of insane, and I just didn't know. But I've been meaning to try something by Tanith Lee and found this one. The experience was...interesting. From the start it is a bit of a strange journey, a woman waking up in a dormant volcano and flung out into the world to find herself worshipped and feared and used and abused. It is not often a very comfortable journey, nor a comfortable read. There is definitely a sense this is a tale like the classic male adventure stories, like Conan, and perhaps purposefully so. Unlike those stories, though, the main character is a woman, and a woman in more than just body. Though she is constantly fighting with daggers and swords and magic and overcoming the obstacles before her, she also carries with her the unconscious and ingrained hatred for what she is, for herself.
Reading it, it's fairly easy to see where the narrative deviates from even stories like Red Sonja, because while both protagonists are active and physically strong like their male counterparts, the main character of The Birthgrave is also something of a constant victim. She is taken by men all the time, and while the many violations of her don't necessarily stop her from fighting and keeping on and striving for her freedom, there is the sense that they are not something Conan ever had to deal with. And it stems from the fact that, while the main character of this book is active and doesn't stay in the roles assigned to her, she also carries the baggage of having been indoctrinated at a young age (like many girls) that what she is is dirty and tainted and evil and deserves abuse and punishment.
That the book managed to address such a subtle point without outright saying so is a testament to what it manages to accomplish in the finale of the text. That ending, which didn't feel forced or false or sudden to me, managed to undo a lot of ick that I felt reading the rest of it. I some ways, though, by that point some of the story was a bit beyond saving. I liked what the book was trying to say, that the real problem the main character faced was never because of a curse but because of internalized disgust at what she was. At the same time, it didn't make the entirety of the rest of the narrative readily palatable. Mainly because while it did set her up as finally being able to be free, I wasn't sure exactly what to think about a lot of what happened in the story. And a lot goes happen, because this is a long book and because the text is packed with action. I wanted a little more exploration at the end, maybe a little more action. And the majority of the book was still a bit of a chore to read at times, dense and mysterious.
So while I really liked what the book ended up saying, I didn't like that it played everything so close to itself and then decided for the big reveal at the end followed by very little. I guess I would have wanted a little more hint at what was coming, a bit more to figure out. As it was everything got explained but I was still left with some questions. I enjoyed the book more than not, though, and so am giving it a 6.75/10.
I had no real idea of what to expect when I opened this book. I mean, that cover is kind of insane, and I just didn't know. But I've been meaning to try something by Tanith Lee and found this one. The experience was...interesting. From the start it is a bit of a strange journey, a woman waking up in a dormant volcano and flung out into the world to find herself worshipped and feared and used and abused. It is not often a very comfortable journey, nor a comfortable read. There is definitely a sense this is a tale like the classic male adventure stories, like Conan, and perhaps purposefully so. Unlike those stories, though, the main character is a woman, and a woman in more than just body. Though she is constantly fighting with daggers and swords and magic and overcoming the obstacles before her, she also carries with her the unconscious and ingrained hatred for what she is, for herself.
Reading it, it's fairly easy to see where the narrative deviates from even stories like Red Sonja, because while both protagonists are active and physically strong like their male counterparts, the main character of The Birthgrave is also something of a constant victim. She is taken by men all the time, and while the many violations of her don't necessarily stop her from fighting and keeping on and striving for her freedom, there is the sense that they are not something Conan ever had to deal with. And it stems from the fact that, while the main character of this book is active and doesn't stay in the roles assigned to her, she also carries the baggage of having been indoctrinated at a young age (like many girls) that what she is is dirty and tainted and evil and deserves abuse and punishment.
That the book managed to address such a subtle point without outright saying so is a testament to what it manages to accomplish in the finale of the text. That ending, which didn't feel forced or false or sudden to me, managed to undo a lot of ick that I felt reading the rest of it. I some ways, though, by that point some of the story was a bit beyond saving. I liked what the book was trying to say, that the real problem the main character faced was never because of a curse but because of internalized disgust at what she was. At the same time, it didn't make the entirety of the rest of the narrative readily palatable. Mainly because while it did set her up as finally being able to be free, I wasn't sure exactly what to think about a lot of what happened in the story. And a lot goes happen, because this is a long book and because the text is packed with action. I wanted a little more exploration at the end, maybe a little more action. And the majority of the book was still a bit of a chore to read at times, dense and mysterious.
So while I really liked what the book ended up saying, I didn't like that it played everything so close to itself and then decided for the big reveal at the end followed by very little. I guess I would have wanted a little more hint at what was coming, a bit more to figure out. As it was everything got explained but I was still left with some questions. I enjoyed the book more than not, though, and so am giving it a 6.75/10.
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